Kick at the Darkness
by Medea Jade
Summary: A prequel to Red Sun at Night taking place aboard the Normandy during the events of Mass Effect 3. Written from the point of view of the crew as developed in RSaN, featuring Morgan, Catherine, and James And maybe a little bit of Shenko for all the Kaidan lovers out there . Recommend reading RSAN first for context. And see my profile for ETA and details on the next chapter.
1. Chapter 1 Leaving Earth

"Hey, Morgan," Catherine spoke softly into the microphone of her head piece.

"What's up?" her friend replied from her post in the CIC.

"I think I've almost finished rewriting to code for the life support," Catherine said, surprise in her voice.

"What? No way!" Morgan replied. "That should have taken another week at least. I've got at least a day left figuring out the shields on this thing. "

"I think the Normandy's VI has been helping," Catherine said, whispering again. The comm channels weren't intended for personal communication. She and Morgan had already been chewed out once for it. "I'm starting to think there's a lot more to her than meets the eye."

"Have you heard the way Joker talks to her?"

"Yes. And see, even you're calling her a she."

"Speaking of Joker. He's just been escorted onto the bridge again. Hang on. I'll see if I can find out what's up."

Catherine turned her mic off and returned to her work at the console in life support. The room was a little cave of a place next to the drive core. When Catherine had started work on the Normandy the room had possessed a window that look out onto the massive Tantalus engine. The pulse and flash of the core had been hypnotic, even in its dormant state while the ship was docked. Now it was just dark and a little creepy.

The mic in her ear crackled and Morgan's voice came through.

"Something's going on," she said, her voice nervous. "Anderson ordered him here."

Without warning the entire ship rattled and shook around them. Her connection to Morgan was cut. Catherine stopped what she was doing and listened. She could hear footsteps echoing in the corridor outside and she moved for the door to find out what was happening.

She expected the doors to open as she approached but nothing happened.

"What the hell..." she muttered.

"Serviceman Hogan," a feminine voice came from the floating blue orb in the wall next to her. "Undocking will commence in thirty seconds. You are requested to find a seat with a flight harness and secure yourseld."

"Why? What's going on, EDI?" Catherine asked frantically. "Why are we undocking?"

There was no reply from the VI. A deep hum filled the room and intense vibration nearly shook Catherine from her feet. She stumbled back into the main area of the room and flipped down the flight chair in the corner. Her hands shook as she fumbled with the harness, trying to get her arms through the loops and the buckles clipped.

Another voice spoke through her headset and through the main sound system of the ship, echoing between Catherine's ears in a weird stereo.

"This is Major Alenko. Earth is under attack. The Reapers are here. Hang tight everyone. We're going for Commander Shepard."

Catherine barely had time to register that she recognized he name Alenko before the ship slewed hard to port and she was thrown hard into the wall and almost out of the seat. She tugged desperately at her restraints, trying to get them tighter.

The minutes dragged by. The only sounds Catherine could here over the throb of the drive core was static from her ear piece. Her mind reeled with images of the sky scrapers of Vancouver burning, the palms and rhododendrons turning to ash in the streets, people running and screaming in panic and pandemonium.

She closed her eyes and tried to force down the bile rising in her throat. She thought of her mother and knew that on this beautiful sunny day she would have been sitting out on her balcony reading. Would she have seen what was happening? Would she have made it to the bunker under the complex? Her home was on the slopes of Grouse Mountain, far from the core of the city. Maybe she was safe. Maybe the Reapers would focus on Alliance headquarters before going to the outlying burrows.

The ship wove from side to side. Catherine's neck ached with the effort of keeping her head from slamming into the wall behind. Her omnitool chimed the hour and she realized half an hour had passed since EDI had warned her about the take off. How could time be moving so quickly and so slowly at the same time?

Then everything slowed. The pulse of the drive core slowed and the high pitched whine of a hydraulics pierced through the din. The inertial dampers couldn't quite compensate for the up and down motion of the ship as it hovered. Catherine reached for the buckles of the harness but EDI voice sounded in her ear piece.

"Please do not release your restraints. We will be moving through the atmosphere shortly. There will be some turbulence."

"EDI, please!" Catherine shouted. "What's going on?"

The VI didn't reply. The hydraulics whined again and Catherine was pressed back into the seat as the ship rocketed upwards.

Her stomach lurched as the Normandy entered space and the antigrav fields shifted to compensate. There was the briefest moment of weightlessness before gravity returned to normal. Catherine knew that meant they must have exited the atmosphere at incredible speeds.

She ignored EDI's next request for her to stay in her seat and threw off the harness and stood on wobbly legs. Thankfully the VI did not go so far as to lock her with the life support deck and the door opened as she neared it.

Carherine raced down the hallway past the elevator and the crew quarters and into the starboard observation deck. The viewport was sealed and showed only the ribbed metal of the protective shutter. She slapped the control next to the glass and the shutter responded, retracting slowly upwards.

The view it revealed brought Catherine to her knees. The globe that was Earth was quickly receding in the near distance, but the fires devouring the Pacific coast of Asia could still seen beyond the terminator line of a new dawn, a sickly bright copper glow of super-heated metal and molten glass.

Bangkok, Beijing, Shanghai, Hong Kong, Seoul, Osaka, Tokyo, Jakarta, Singapore, Manila. Like bloody smears on the pristine face of Gaia they fell in raging infernos, like a backwards image of Earth's prosperity.

"No," Catherine whimpered, repeating the word like mantra.

Pain pierced her chest and she clutched at it, unable to draw breath.

Reapers descended through the atmosphere, crimson entry trails following them like the burning trains of desecrated wedding gowns. Hundreds of them littered the skies, plowing through the clouds with sickening determination and purpose.

The ship banked steeply and the moon eclipsed her view of the ravagement taking place below. But even Luna burned. A horrifying creature of incredible size stalked across the rocky surface on six insectile legs, its metal carapace opening to vomit forth a fiercely bright laser that razed everything in its path.

And then Luna was gone from sight and Catherine's grief and shock overcame her. A comforting hand fell on her shoulder and only then did she realize that she was not alone.

Several others leaned against the glass, their faces frozen masks of heartache and terror and disbelief. More stood behind them, their bodies frozen in a tableau of the disaster struck.

Somebody helped Catherine to her feet and then to a seat on one of the couches. Not long after a deep, yet distinctly feminine voice came through the comms above their heads.

"This is Commander Shepard." Her voice was aggressive and angry, but also somehow compassionate and sympathetic at the same time. "I won't beat around the bush here. The devastation we just witnessed on Earth is only the beginning. The Reapers are here. I know you all have questions. I don't have all the answers, but what I know, you'll know."

There was a long pause, and for a moment Catherine thought that was all there would be from the legendary war hero.

"I've been reinstated as Commander of the Normandy. I know this was meant to be Admiral Anderson's ship. I know you're not her crew, but I need you... humanity needs you to stand tall and harden your hearts. Admiral Hackett has ordered us to Mars. After that it's the Citadel. Beyond that, I don't know. Stand strong. We can do this. Shepard out."

The comm went silent and Catherine stared with vacant unseeing eyes out into the depths of space beyond the heavy glass of the viewport. Time lost all meaning as she gazed out into the abyss. Thoughts became things of pure emotion and she waded through them with heavy legs.

"System Operation Chiefs are asked to report to the CIC."

Catherine heard EDI's voice but the words were meaningless. Someone took her by the hand and lead her out the door and to the elevator. As the doors hissed shut she returned to reality, a sheath of cold denial enveloping her.

"Where are we going?" she asked the woman beside her.

"SOCs were called to the CIC," the woman responded. Catherine knew her name but her brain wouldn't provide it. "You're in charge of life support, right?"

"Yes, but-"

The elevator door opened to the CIC and Catherine was cut off. They filed out and joined several other people standing to the right of the galaxy map. A tall man in the casual fatigues of an officer paced in front of them, his handsome face creased with worry.

Catherine found Morgan and the two women stood side by side at the back of the group, leaning on each other for support.

"Is this everyone?" the man asked.

"Yes," EDI said over the loud speaker. "We do not have a Mess Sergeant, Medical Officer, or Facilities Officer at the moment."

The man nodded and turned to the assembled SOCs.

"I'm Major Kaidan Alenko."

Catherine's heart skipped a beat as she realized how she knew the name.

"As ranking officer I'll be acting as Commander Shepard's Executive Officer until a proper crew can be assembled. If a proper crew can be assembled. It won't be long until we reach Mars and I'll be part of the ground team going planetside. The ship has to be running like clockwork before then."

"But Sir," someone at the front said. "Like the Commander said, we aren't the crew. Most of us are just the techs part of the team refitting the ship."

"I know that, but right now you're all we've got," Major Alenko said. Catherine could hear the stress in his voice, see the fear in his eyes. "EDI has already designated stations in the CIC for each of you. Everyone aboard is pulling a long one today. You've all been through basic boot camp and you know the drills. The Commander runs a tight ship, but I know she'll let things slide if you aren't the spit and polish crew she expects."

The Major began directing them all to their workstations along the perimeter of the CIC and the hallway leading to the bridge.

"I don't know anything about maintain a shield while in flight," Morgan whispered to Catherine.

"I know him," Catherine whispered back.

"Catherine Hogan, Life Support Chief," Major Alenko called from his datapad.

Catherine stepped forward and gave him a sharp salute. He barely gave her a second glance as he directed her to a station near the bridge. She trotted away and swung herself into the seat. The holographic screens adjusted to her reach and she logged into the system.

She let her mind fall into the tedium that monitoring life support required. Stats and readings scrolled down the screens and by reflex she grabbed at the ones that seemed off and adjusted systems to compensate. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the Major jog by on his way to the bridge. She could just hear the conversation he had there with Joker.

"How long 'til Mars," Major Alenko asked.

"I can't make the jump yet," Joker explained. "Adams is fixing something in engineering. We took a hard hit while undocking."

"I estimate no more than five minutes for the repair," EDI said. "Major, the Commander is waiting for you in the armory."

"On my way," the Major said, and Catherine turned to watch him jog back down the hallway and through the CIC to the elevator.

Morgan's station was two down from her's and Catherine caught the other woman's eye for a moment. Morgan too seemed to be functioning on auto pilot, focusing on her terminal to keep her mind off the carnage they'd just seen.

Moments later Joker's voice sounded through the ship.

"Brace for FTL jump. ETA to Mars eight minutes."

Seconds later the noise level in the ship amped up and Catherine could see the kinetic barriers light up around the ship, flashing and pulsating through the bridge windows. She gave herself a moment to acknowledge that she'd scored an excellent workstation and then turned her mind back to the task of maintaining life support.

The ship shuttered as it exited FTL flight and switched to in-system drives. EDI alerted the crew to brace for entry into the atmosphere and Catherine pulled her arms through the harness straps attached to the seat.

"Clear hanger bay for shuttle exit," EDI's said, this time in Catherine's headset not ship wide. "Hanger clear. Opening hanger doors. Shuttle away. Serviceman Hogan, are you clear on your duties now?"

"My duties?" Catherine asked, unsure how her job had changed.

"The shuttle bay and armory are sealed with a kinetic barrier when opened in vacuum or low atmosphere," EDI explained. "The shuttle can pass through, but leaks often occur. It is the duty of the life support officer to ensure that the bay returns to normal as quickly as possible after the shuttle exits or enters."

"Oh, yeah, okay," Catherine said absently.

She called up readings specific to the lower decks and adjusted the CO2 filters and oxygen input.

"Shuttle Bay clear," she said into her head piece.

An round light in the lower right corner of her console turned from yellow to green.

"What does the light mean, EDI?"

"The light indicates the alert status of the ship," EDI said, her voice soothingly calm. "A green light tells you that you may leave your station for personal reasons. Yellow means that you are required to stay at your station for all but professional reasons, such as speaking to your deck officer. If the light is red, it means that you must not leave your station unless ordered to. Typically the light will only appear as red when we are engaged in active warfare."

"So, I can get up and walk around now?"

"Do you wish me to take over monitoring of life support?"

"Umm, yeah," Catherine said. "I won't be long."

She unbuckled and lifted herself out of the seat, stepping up onto the metal grating of the deck. She stood for a moment with her head down. There had been no destination in mind when she left her post, she just felt the need to move.

Morgan was working furiously at her station. Most of the read outs were Greek to Catherine's eyes, but she could understand enough to see that Morgan had her work cut out for her bringing the shields back to full power.

No one said anything as Catherine wandered back through the CIC and to the elevator. Her belongings were stored in a locker in the crew quarters and a need she could put no name to drove her to go there now.

The elevator doors opened to a silent deck. The ship didn't have a full complement and most of those on board were now in the CIC and war room. Directly across from the elevators was a memorial wall, filled with the names of the fallen who had served on the original Normandy.

Catherine's eyes move down the list, silently reading the names one by one. When she finished she went back to the top and read them again and again. She'd read them all before but now they held more meaning. These were among the first casualties of the war with the Reapers. They lost their lives fighting to keep everyone else in the galaxy safe and how had they been rewarded? A wall of names and a trillion people still unprepared to defend against the biggest threat they'd ever faced.

With a sad shake of her head, Catherine turned from the wall and walked slowly to the crew quarters. At the door she stopped and surveyed the small room crowded with bunks and lockers. Would this be where she'd sleep from now on? This tiny room with no privacy and no windows.

She'd been in and out of this room every day for months, stowing and retrieving her gear at the beginning of each shift, but she'd never really looked at it. There was nothing homey about it. Everything was metal and cold and hard. Even the beds with their crisply laundered and tightly tucked sheets looked chilled and uninviting.

Half an hour before, the tears she'd shed had been for Earth and all her people. The tears running down her cheeks now, Catherine cried for herself.

She keyed in the code for her locker and reached inside. Her backpack was open, the head of her small brown teddy bear poking out. Her fingers went around it and she pulled it out, holding it to her chest, its fuzzy head tucked under her chin.

Her shift should be just ending. She should be pulling this pack onto her shoulder and heading to her mother's house for the night. The change of clothes inside should have been for the BBQ being held in the housing complex that night. Hours from now she should have been pulling on her pajamas and curling up in the guest bed in the sunroom with her bear.

It had been a gift from her mother on Valentine's Day when Catherine was fourteen years old. Scorned by a boy for the first time, her mother had left the bear propped up on her pillow with a note that said _You can't hurry love_.

"Oh, mummy," Catherine croaked through her constricted throat. "Mummy, please be safe."

Catherine held the bear close and sobbed until her eyes burned and her collar was wet with tears. Then anger took hold and she wiped savagely at her cheeks. She latched onto the anger and felt her lip begin to curl up in a noiseless snarl.

Stuffing the bear away and sealing her locker she turned and stalked down the hall to life support. EDI popped up as she entered.

"Is everything all right, Serviceman Hogan?"

"I'm fine," Catherine spat. "And please stop calling me Serviceman. Catherine will do fine."

"As you wish, Catherine," EDI complied easily. "If you wish, you may monitor life support from here. It is one of the few systems that does not require you to be present in the CIC to perform your duty. However, if we shift to yellow or red alert, you must return to your station."

Catherine nodded and threw herself back into her work.

Life support required little attention when the ship was idle and running silent. The ship practically ran itself it seemed, lending further credence to Catherine's theory that EDI was more than she seemed.

Several hours later EDI alerted her that the shuttle was returning. With came a massive amount of dust and debris that took her several extra minutes to clear from the air before she could declare the shuttle bay to be at normality.

While she worked there was a commotion outside at the elevator. She heard Shepard's voice yelling at Joker to get them out of there and get a link to Hackett.

"Catherine, you are asked report to medical," EDI said as Catherine was putting the final touches on the atmosphere in the hanger.

"Me? Why?"

"There has been an severe injury."

Catherine's brow furrow as she wondered why anyone would want her help in medical. She left life support and as she came around the corner into the mess hall she could see into medical where someone paced and body lay prone on a gurney.

A bear of a man met her at the door. He stood nearly a foot taller than her and with his armor still on he seemed ten times bigger.

"You the life support tech?" he asked.

"Yes," Catherine replied nervously.

"Keep him alive until we got the Citadel." He pointed to the figure on the gurney.

"I'm not a doctor," she protested. "I... I don't know the first thing about saving a life."

"You're Alliance and that means you've had trauma training," he replied angrily. "And you're life support so you know how to take stat readings. The Commander is not going to be happy if he dies."

Catherine put her hands on her hips and felt the snarl returning.

"So now this is on me? Who do you think you are anyway?"

The man seemed to swallow his ire and when he replied he was calmer and more reasonable.

"Sorry. Adrenaline. I'm Lieutenant James Vega. Major Alenko was injured. He's in rough shape. Do what you can."

With that he turned and left. The door closed and Catherine was left alone with the Major.

Picking up a scanner from the desk she stepped up the side of the bed. The Major's face was horribly bruised and swollen. She hardly recognized him from only hours before in the CIC. She didn't recognize him at all from the boy she'd know back on Earth so many, many years before.

Running a quick diagnostic of his suits computer showed her that his life signs were fading fast. He had massive internal bleeding around his brain and his biotic implant was sending dangerous electrical pulses through the connected synapses.

A few quick motions with her omnitool shut the implant down and immediately his stats leveled out. He wasn't going to die, but whether he would wake up with his brain undamaged remained to be seen.

His armor made him incredibly heavy, but Catherine managed to get him lying comfortably on the gurney, at least what she thought would be comfortably. She knew enough to leave his suit in place. Its internal life support would keep his core temperature regulated and hopefully stop him from going to shock.

With EDI's direction she started a central line just above his collar bone and began a saline drip with a medi-gel additive that would help with the swelling, but beyond that there was nothing more she could do.

She sat down at the desk and stared at the man on the table. Her mind tracked back through the long years to the last time she had seen him. He'd been just a boy of sixteen then, and her just a girl of fourteen. He hadn't even recognized her, but then she had taken a moment to remember him as well.

Her contemplation was broken when Joker announced that they were approaching the Sol relay. Once they were in transit Shepard's voice came on the comms speaking to the entire ship. She sounded tired, drained.

"We've suffered heavy losses today. All of us. I know you're scared and confused, but you're not alone. All of humanity stands with us and we're heading to the Citadel to recruit every fleet we can. The turians, the salarians, the asari, even the krogan, must help us. With them on our side, we _can_ win this. But right now I need to know that I've got a capable crew. EDI tells me that you are all skilled and work well as a team. I need that. I need a crew who knows each other and knows the ship. That's you people. That being said, I know you're not all soldiers. Anyone who wants to leave is free to do so when we dock at the Citadel. Alliance Headquarters there will make sure you're looked after. But you have to make the decision quickly. The ship will need a full crew before we set out again. I don't know when that will be, and I don't know what comes next. Stay strong people, and good work. Shepard out."

Several minutes later Catherine nearly jumped out of her skin when the Commander rushed through the doors to medical and straight to the Major's side.

Catherine stood to attention, but Shepard waved her down.

"How is he?" Shepard asked. Her voice was softer than it had been on the comms.

"Uh, not good, Commander," Catherine said, feeling overwhelmed by Shepard's presence and scared she would get tongue-tied. "I've shut his implant down and that helped, but he needs far more than we can provide on the Normandy, and I'm not a medic."

Catherine got the impression that Shepard wasn't really listening to her. She leaned over the bed, her hair hiding her face, and lay the backs of her fingers on the Major's cheeks.

"Will he make it to the Citadel?"

"I think so, but he's in bad shape. We need to get there fast."

The Commander stood and Catherine thought she saw tears in the woman's eyes before she blinked hard and turned away from the bed.

"What's your name?" she asked Catherine.

"Serviceman Catherine Hogan," she replied, standing to attention again.

Shepard gave her a salute in return and laid a hand on her shoulder briefly as she walked from the room.

"Good work, Hogan," she said. "I hope you'll stick around."

Catherine turned and watched her go and she knew at the very moment that she would never leave the Normandy. She would follow the Commander to hell and back. She'd always heard Shepard had charisma, but it had been an understatement. Those few words, that passing touch, had earned Catherine's loyalty. From anyone else it might have seemed trite, even false, but from Shepard the message was clear. _I value you. I'm loyal to you._

And so, Catherine's fate became sealed. Whatever happened to Shepard, whatever happened to the Normandy, would happen to her.


	2. Chapter 2 The Citadel

Docking at the Citadel brought the ship status to yellow and Catherine was at her station and unable to witness the view as they approached. Looking forward to that sight had kept her sane for the past hours as she watched over the Major.

As they flew away from the Widow relay, a stunningly gorgeous asari had come to relive her of her watch. Catherine had left as the asari, who had introduced herself as Liara, had begun gently stripping the Major of the more bulky parts of his armour in preparation for transport to a Citadel hospital.

Catherine found herself dwelling on Major Alenko's condition. She feared his survival hinged on her less than adequate medical skills. Furthering her sense of guilt was the fact that she knew him. Somehow that simple fact made it harder to accept that there had been little she could do for him.

The Commander was at the airlock, pacing like a caged beast, waiting for the ships internal pressure to match the exterior atmosphere. Catherine played a part in that task and hurried her fingers at the controls to ease the tension mounting in the CIC.

Finally the airlock opened and a team of medics rushed in with a hovering gurney in tow.

"This way," the Commander said sharply, and they hurried along behind her to the elevator.

Catherine anxiously stared at the yellow light, waiting for it to turn green. She heard the elevator open again and the medics came tearing through the CIC. Catherine wiped her head around to watch them go by. Their panicked words didn't make her feel any better about the Major's prospects.

Finally the light turned green and Catherine ripped off her harness. But before she could get out of her seat the light flashed several times and returned to yellow. With a sigh of exasperation she slumped back into the chair.

"EDI, when will I be able to leave my post?" Catherine asked to the air, knowing that EDI was always listening.

"You may leave when you wish, Catherine," EDI replied. "If you wish to go ashore I can provide you with directions to the nearest Alliance office or the human embassy. I must say though that you are a skilled technician and your presence here will be sorely missed."

"Oh, I intend to stay, EDI," Catherine reassured her. "I just really want to get a look at the Citadel. This is my first time outside the Sol system."

"I am pleased to hear you'll be staying," EDI said, with a tone that implied true pleasure.

"EDI, are you sure you're a VI?" Catherine asked curiously. "You're very expressive for a non-sentient construct."

EDI did not respond right away and when she did it was on a different topic.

"The flashing green you just saw was an indication of a watch change. Were the ship fully staffed, someone would take your place and you would be free to enjoy your off-duty hours. However, since there is currently no one to replace you, I will be taking over your duties while we are docked."

"Thanks, EDI," Catherine said, not bothering to delve into the other questions she had for the VI.

She hopped out of her seat just as Morgan climbed from hers. Clearly she'd just had a similar conversation with EDI. Catherine smiled at her friend and Morgan smiled back, but the expression didn't reach beyond the curve of their lips. Neither was truly happy.

"You staying?" Morgan asked.

"Yeah. You?"

"Fuck yeah," Morgan said emphatically. "If what we saw wasn't some cruel dream then I'm itching for some payback. Figure this is the best place to get it."

"Want to go take a look?" Catherine asked, gesturing with her head towards the bridge.

"Also, fuck yeah," Morgan said with a more real smile and they joined Joker on the bridge.

"Hey girls," Joker amiably. "I guess it's too much to hope that you came for the view inside and not out there."

"You know we love you, Jeff," Catherine said looking past him through the windows. "But yeah, we're here for the view out there. Can't really see much though..."

Catherine trailed off as she climbed up the bulkhead to get a better look out the window. It didn't do much good. All she could see was a seemingly endless line of docks. She dropped back down to the deck.

"So, uh, how do things like shore leave work?" she asked Joker.

"Beats me," he responded with a shrug. "I never take any."

"What he means to say is that a rota hasn't been worked out yet."

Catherine turned to find Lieutenant Vega standing near the open airlock, his bulk nearly filling the space.

"Normally shore leave would be worked out by the XO," Vega said. "But seeing as we don't have one I'm going to say no shore leave until we get things figured out."

"Thank," Catherine said and tried to give him a friendly smile.

Truth was, the huge man made her nervous. Somehow, out of his armour he seemed ever bigger. His grey t-shirt might as well have been painted on it clung to his muscled frame so tightly. Bulging biceps kept his arms from hanging at his sides and he seemed to be flexing despite the fact that he was quite relaxed.

"A word, Hogan," he said and beckoned her over.

Catherine had to fall back on her few days at boot camp and remind herself that he was a superior officer before she could convince her legs to take her over to him.

She followed him towards the open airlock and into the tunnel that connected them to the station. The Lieutenant stopped and turned to face her. It wasn't until then that Catherine saw the deep scaring on his right cheek and chin. It didn't make him seem any less fearsome.

"Listen, chica," he said, rubbing the nape of his neck uncomfortably. "I owe you an apology."

"What for, sir?" she asked.

"Hey, hey, no need for formality here."

"Okay," Catherine said nervously, dropped the honourific and asked again. "What for?"

"For shouting at you," he said contritely. "It was out of a line for a whole bunch of reasons."

Suddenly the man didn't seem quite as intimidating.

"Since when do officers apologize for shouting?" Catherine asked, raising a brow at the him.

"Hey, I'm being nice here," he said with a blush.

"Yes, you are," Catherine said. She felt something other than terror and anguish for a moment and touched him softly on the arm to show it. "No harm done."

"So, uh, you stickin' around, chica?" he said, not quite meeting her eye.

"I am, yeah," Catherine replied, feeling proud that she could say it with such finality.

"Sweet," he said. "Maybe I will too."

He started to walk away.

"You might not?" Catherine called after him.

"You want me to, chica?" he said, turning to walk backwards so he could look at her.

"I just can't believe anyone would leave," she said.

"We'll see."

"Where are you going, anyway?" she shouted as he got further away. "I thought you said no shore leave?"

"To find the Commander and give her the good news," he called back.

"There's good news? I could use some of that."

He gave her a sloppy, mock salute and marched on to the end of the tunnel. Catherine watched until he disappeared through the docking hatch at the end and then went back inside the ship feeling confused by her conversation with the hulking man.

Morgan was waiting for her and they turned to walk back into the centre of the ship together.

"What was that?" Morgan asked.

"He wanted to say sorry for verbally assaulting me earlier," Catherine explained.

"He's hot," Morgan quipped. "He can assault me any day."

"You think he's hot?"

"In a jar head, muscle bound kinda way. You don't?"

Catherine brought up an image of the Lieutenant in her mind's eye. The scruff on his chin and the fauxhawk cresting his head were appealing. There was no denying he had a spectacular body. And his hazel eyes had something in them. A sort of boyish charm that seemed at odds with his hardened soldier exterior.

"Yeah, he's a good looking guy," Catherine conceded.

"Good looking?" Morgan said with a little laugh. "Are you into girls?"

"You're the second person to ask me that this month," Catherine said defensively. "Why do people think I'm a lesbian?"

"Because you just told me you think that man is 'good looking'." Morgan quote in the air as she said it.

"Okay, fine he's ridiculously hot," she said, throwing her arms in the air.

"Say it like you mean it," Morgan said with a laugh.

Her laughter stopped abruptly and Catherine could see on her face that her mind had just brought her back to Earth.

"You ever lost someone close to you?" Catherine asked suddenly.

"Yeah. Why?" Morgan asked.

"Because it's not until you lose someone that you realize how adaptable we are," Catherine said, leaning on the railing surrounding the galaxy map. "We're designed to overcome tragedy and loss quickly. But even as laughter heals we feel guilty for doing it."

"I can't laugh," Morgan said as she held her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking ever so slightly. "Not while my parents are still on Earth. And my brother. He was in Philadelphia."

Catherine took a step towards her and wrapped her arms around her friend. Morgan pulled her hands from her face and put them around Catherine's waist and lay her head on her shoulder, tears coursing down her cheeks to soak her friend's shirt.

"Cry now and then dry your eyes," Catherine said soothingly. "The Commander is right. We have to stay strong, because wallowing in misery won't do anyone any good. If laughter makes you feel better, then you have to laugh. It's not wrong."

Even as she said it she knew that the words weren't just for Morgan. They were for herself as well, and the many people in the CIC able to hear their conversation. She hoped it would do them some good as well. Each and every one of them could use the encouragement.

Her thoughts returned to her mother and Catherine had to bite back her own tears as she held Morgan close. Eventually the smaller woman's tears seemed to run out and she pulled away, rubbing at her eyes as she did.

"Thanks, Cat," she said, her voice horse. "Not sure I can manage to feel good about anything without feeling guilty, but I see where you're coming from."

Samantha Traynor came up beside them and placed a sympathetic hand on Morgan's shoulder.

"Wise words, Catherine," she said with a smile that she somehow made to seem actually happy. "Listen, I thought I'd suggest that we go claim some space in the crew quarters before the new staff come aboard."

"Good idea," Catherine said and followed Samantha to the elevator.

Several people were there already, laying claim to lockers and bunks. Ivan, who the three woman barely knew because he'd been working mostly in engineering, gave them a run down on the situation.

"Right now there's enough bunks for everyone, but once we get new crew we're going to have to share."

"Even though we have sleeper pods?" Morgan said incredulously.

"Those are meant to be shared," Ivan said. "Not everyone can sleep in a public room."

"Wow, I hadn't even thought of that," Catherine said, chewing on her lower lip.

"How many people will have to share?" Samantha asked.

"My guess is at least two people to a bunk," Ivan said. "Depends on how many people actually want to use the crew quarters."

"Just so we're clear." Morgan raised a hand to silence Ivan. "We're talking shifts, right? Not two people at a time."

Catherine laughed. Really and truly laughed. It felt good. So good she felt a rush of emotion that nearly brought her to tears.

"You twit!" She slapped Morgan on the back. "Of course he means shifts."

Morgan glared at Catherine who was still chuckling. Samantha began to giggle as well and soon the three of them were laughing hysterically. Catherine collapsed to the floor and sat cross legged, holding her stomach while she laughed, no sound coming from her mouth.

Ivan could only stare at the three women in utter bafflement. The other people in the room stopped what they were doing and couldn't contain their own mirthful smiles and raised eyebrows.

Finally, they managed to reduce the insane laugher to the occasional giggle.

"That felt good," Samantha said when she caught her breath at last.

Catherine nodded her agreement and leaned back on the locker behind her.

"Sometimes a situation is so fucked up that all you can do is either laugh or cry," she said quietly. "It's always better to laugh."

The ache in her chest was still there, tugging at the cords of her very being, but at the same time she felt lighter, more able to draw breath. And she felt hungry for the first time in nearly a day.

She could tell by the look on Morgan's face that her friend felt the same way. Her jaw was a little more relaxed. Her eyes a little brighter and more animated. Samantha too seemed to breathe a sigh of relief before the pained look of grief returned to her face.

"I've got an idea," Catherine said. "How about the three of us call dibs on a bunk? That way we know who are sharing with. I get the feeling I might be more inclined towards a pod anyway, and we can't all be on duty the same watches all the time."

The girls went with her idea and they chose a top bunk in the back left corner of the room. It seemed like the one with the most privacy, and the hum of the drive core would mask most other noise in the room.

Morgan found a marker in her pack and wrote their names on the side of the bunk. Ivan laughed at them and said Joker would be pissed if he found out she'd defaced his ship. In response, Morgan took the marker out again and wrote beneath it _Bite me, Joker._

The galley in the mess hall seemed small and cramped with the three of them working in it and eventually Catherine kicked them both out and set to work making a rice and chicken dish she remembered the recipe for.

They were just tucking in, steaming wafting tantalizingly from their bowls, when Joker joined them.

"Joker, I don't think I've ever seen you anywhere else on the ship before," Catherine said.

"A guy's gotta eat sometime." He stared at the bowl of food in front of Catherine and she could practically see the drool dripping from his chin.

She pushed her bowl across the table to him and got up to get another for herself. He'd already devoured half his bowl when she returned to the table.

"Fan oo," he said around an enormous mouthful of rice.

"You're welcome. Now don't talk anymore," she said, thinking her own meal didn't look as appetizing when the same dish was being devoured so disgustingly across from her.

Joker swallowed and looked like he was about to release a belch, but a look from Catherine convinced him it would be unwise and instead he stretched.

"Good food," he said, taking off his hat to rub at his reddish brown hair which was plastered permanently down. "So, Cat. Shepard just messaged from the hospital. She wanted me to tell you Kaidan made it. He's still out, but his doctors seem to think he'll be alright. I don't know what you did, but thanks."

"I hardly did anything," Catherine said, basking in the praise from the Commander nonetheless. "I just kept an eye on his life signs while we were in transit."

"Well, she was glad to hear you're sticking around," Joker said. "Oh and she said she's probably going to be a while talking to the Council so we can all take a bit of shore leave."

"Actually," EDI voice sounded above them. "What the commander said was that she would like everyone to visit the Alliance requisitions office to purchase anything they need. Also, she arranged for a significant increase to typical allowance given how hastily we were forced to leave Earth."

"Shore leave, requisitions office, same difference," Joker said with a carefree shrug.

"Jeff, if you are going to convey messages, please ensure you get them right," EDI chided.

Joker opened and closed his hand like a beak and mouthed blah, blah, blah as EDI spoke.

"I can see you, Jeff," EDI said. Catherine was sure she could hear a hint of annoyance in the VI's voice.

EDI continued with the rest of the message. "The Commander has arranged for an escort for you as well as access passes to allow you to visit to Persidium Commons. Her only request is that for the time being no one go down to the Wards."

"I think we can handle that," Catherine said. "When can we go?"

"Shortly," EDI replied. "The new additions to the crew will arrive within the half hour and then you may leave. I suggest that you make use of the Alliance facilities while on the station. Water rationing will be altered drastically once we have a full compliment."

Excitement rose in Catherine as she realized she would be stepping out on to the Citadel, the heart of the galaxy. Working for the Alliance she'd seen many aliens before, even briefly dated a drell, but she'd never been anywhere that the alien population outnumbered humans.

She'd never understood the prejudices that some people felt towards other species. Somehow, she's always thought of them all as human. Or rather, all the same. Earth was home to so many different cultures that the concept seemed easy to grasp. There were some people on Earth whose beliefs and lifestyles seemed more alien to her than any turian or asari she'd ever met.

EDI insisted on a degree of ceremony as the new crew members came aboard. Catherine was introduced by her new title of Chief Life Support Technician and felt embarrassed by the salutes she received from the marines and staff as they came aboard.

She was given charge of a young Asian women and an older man with greying hair. She'd never had anyone work under her before and was unsure what to do with them. Luckily the man had served on several ships and knew the drill. Without a hint of insubordination, the man asked if he could stow his gear and take a tour of the ship.

EDI interjected an offered to show them around. Gratefully, Catherine told them to settle in and get their bearings and said she would work out a shift rota with their deck officer when she returned.

She and Morgan left the ship together, each of them trying to keep a straight face as they marched down the tunnel to the hatchway. As soon are the door closed behind them Catherine let her professional demeanour drop. She ran a hand through her long hair, shaking it out of the tight bun she kept it in while aboard the ship.

"How the crap did we end up in charge of anything?" she said.

"Well, the Commander did have a point," Morgan said, looking a bit shell-shocked herself. "Us techs know the ship inside and out. But I don't get why she didn't replace me. You staying I get. Life support is pretty straight forward. Keep everyone breathing. But shields... I may know how to read and write the code, but maintaining them in a firefight? I don't know, Cat. This is a little much."

"I get it," Catherine told her. "And you just answered the questions yourself. You wrote the coding. Yeah, there's an Alliance standard, but the Normandy's unique. It would take weeks to bring another tech up to speed."

Morgan didn't look convinced, but the Alliance escort arrived and there was no more time for Catherine to spend trying to ease her friend's worries.

The man sent to lead them didn't seemed pleased with his duty and when Catherine stopped dead in her tracks when presented with her first view of the station he sighed dramatically and tapped his foot impatiently.

As Catherine stared out the glass wall, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the railing, vertigo assailed her and her head swam. Ships of all shapes and sizes drifted past, dwarfed by the grandeur of the wards arms extending out kilometres into the distance. The white-blue light of the Widow Nebula bathed everything, bring the silhouettes of pinnacle like skyscrapers and elegant domes into sharp focus.

"Holy crap," Morgan whispered beside her.

"Yeah," Catherine managed.

"Did I say holy crap already?" Morgan said a moment later.

"Yeah," Catherine breathed.

Their escort called for their attention, but it was a futile attempt. The six other crew members with them were also standing along the railing staring out at the vista, their mouths slack and eyes wide.

The Normandy, stretched out in front of them, was more than dwarf by the station. Catherine's mind searched for the right word to describe the size of what she was looking at. Immense, gigantic, gargantuan, colossal. None of them seemed right. None of them implied the scale of the Citadel or the emotion of seeing it for the first time.

Finally, Catherine turned away from the railing feeling overwhelmed and intimidated by the scope of it all. Just as she couldn't find the right word for the station, she couldn't find a way express how tiny and insignificant she now felt.

Humans tended to feel shafted by Council decisions, like they somehow deserved more attention, but seeing this made Catherine realize how wrong that opinion was. One Ward arm alone was probably more of a challenge to govern than all of Earth.

For the first time she wondered if the Council would answer their call for aid. How could they do anything for one little planet when soon the entire galaxy would be crying out in panic.

When the escort finally got everyone's attention, Catherine followed meekly behind him, saying nothing and looking nowhere. She'd never been shy, but suddenly she was scared to make eye contact with any of the beings they passed. Even when they encountered an elcor in an elevator, Catherine kept her eyes on the floor.

It was with relief that she stepped inside the Alliance requisitions office. The room was large and filled with shelves of Alliance issue goods and the only window looked out on the busy corridor almost entirely filled with uniformed human soldiers. It felt a lot more like home and Catherine began to relax.

She and Morgan sorted through the available clothing, finding their sizes in everything from shirts and sweaters to boots and underwear. Shepard had indeed managed to increase their allowance and Catherine was shocked to find that she still had several hundred credit remaining when she piled her new gear on the counter.

The female officer attending them suggested Catherine stock up on things like toothpaste and soap while she was there. She seemed to know that this was Catherine's first tour of duty and was kind and helpful as she went through her inventory with her making suggestions.

Their belongings packed away in footlockers being piled on a skid for transport to the Normandy, Catherine and Morgan made their way down the corridor to the next Alliance builing where they took showers and had their uniforms laundered.

As they relaxed together in the steamy change room, Catherine dragged her fingers through her tangled hair and lamented that she had forgotten to bring a comb with her.

"This is why I keep my hair short," Morgan said, wincing in sympathy as Catherine worked at a particularly stubborn knot.

"I haven't cut my hair in almost eight years," Catherine said. "It's just about the only thing I like about my body."

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news then, but you're probably going to have to cut it."

"What!" Catherine exclaimed. "Not a chance."

"We aren't going to have the luxury of twenty minute showers once we undock." Morgan undid her towel and lay back naked on the stone ledge. "And you aren't going to have half an hour to brush and braid that mane."

Catherine realized Morgan was right. Every other Alliance solider she'd ever seen had short hair, shoulder length at the longest. As a tech she'd never been required to adhere to a dress code and hadn't even thought about how that was going to change now that she was permanent crew on the Normandy.

But as she thought about it, she remembered something. In her youth she'd been deeply fascinated by ancient Egyptian culture. She'd felt a particular draw to many of their beliefs and customs. She conveniently ignored the fact that among those antediluvian people it had been common practice for brothers and sisters and fathers and daughters to marry, and focused particularly on their views on life and death.

Death had been a subject of much study by the Egyptians. They sought not only to understand it, but also to rule over it. Make it a less painful and scaring event. As a result many traditions and rituals followed any passing, from the death of a pet to the death of a Pharaoh.

For seventy days following a death they wore only blue, their colour of mourning. Alliance colours that she would now where day in and day out. And when they lost someone, especially someone close, they cut off all their hair.

"Let's find a hairdresser," Catherine said abruptly.

Morgan sat up on one elbow. "Seriously?"

Catherine nodded but offered no explanation.

Once their clothes were dry they dressed and asked the man at the front desk where they could find a hairdresser. He told them that someone there could do it for them for free, but Catherine decline. If she was going to let someone chop off all her luxurious locks, it was going to be someone she'd never see again.

He sent them back the way they had come and they stopped several floors above the docking area and stepped out onto a crowded promenade filled with shops and kiosks selling clothes, jewellery and even pets.

Thankfully there was no view outside and nothing distracted Catherine as they wove their way through the throngs of people to the shop that had been suggested to them.

Inside, a bored looking asari sat in one of her barber chairs, flipping through the glossy pages of a magazine on her datapad.

When she realized she had customers she hopped to her feet, grinning at them.

"What can I do for you today?" the asari asked cheerfully. "Want your hair dyed purple for the Crosshairs game tonight? I can do a mean set of liberty spikes if you want."

"Just a haircut please," Catherine said. She found the asari's cheerful mood almost sickening. Had people here not heard about Earth yet? Did they not know how much danger they were in?

Morgan stood at the door watching from a distance as the asari stood over Catherine and chatted endlessly. She sprayed something in Catherine's hair and then pulled a brush through it easily, the tangles falling away under her experienced touch.

"Oh, I just love this," the asari exclaimed. "I wish there were more humans around here. There's only so much you can so with an asari scalp. Dyes and patterns and even some piercing, but this..." She flipped Catherine's hair up and sighed with contentment. "I mean look at it all. And so soft and curly! Humans are so lucky. I wish I had hair. So what am I doing today? A little off the ends? Maybe some lowlights, though it's beautifully done already."

"Cut it all off," Catherine said, her voice even and as calm as she could make it.

"I'm sorry. What did you say?"

"I said cut it all off," Catherine said more harshly than she'd intended. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound so angry."

She tried to explain the situation to the asari who made sounds of sympathy and made no more comments about the loveliness of Catherine's hair.

Catherine stared hard at herself in the mirror as the asari cut away her hair bit by bit. Curly clumps of it, over two feet long, feel to the floor around the chair, like bits of discarded silk. Not another word was spoken as the asari worked, her face serious and eyes blank.

When the job was done, Catherine ran her hand over the little that remained. The back was buzzed short and was like furry stubble under her fingers. The top was a little longer, no more than two inches, and curled slightly, framing her oval face and revealing the many hoops lining the lobes of both her ears.

The asari pulled away the cloth draped over Catherine's shoulders and offered her hand to help her out of the seat. Feeling unsteady Catherine accepted and held back tears as she stepped over the remains of her curls.

Her thoughts went back to the people of Earth and as she stood looking at her new self in the floor the ceiling mirror at the front of the shop, she vowed to do everything in her power to stop their pain and suffering. To take the Reaper motherfuckers out one at a time until the galaxy was rid of their pestilence.

Before the snarl she'd buried could find its way to the surface she turned away from the mirror and looked at the asari, whose smiles had faded to a blank look of confusion.

"What do I owe you?" Catherine asked.

"Owe me?" the asari said. She reached below her desk and pulled out a velvety bag and passed it to Catherine. "You owe me nothing. Keep this. I don't usually give them out to anyone but asari, but... Well, it's for luck. I feel like you'll need it."

"Thanks." Catherine tucked the bag away in her pocket and left the shop.

Thankfully, Morgan made no comment and they made it back to the docking bay with little trouble and no conversation. An aggressive woman wearing the skimpy black and white uniform of an Alliance News Network reporter accosted them, but a dark look from Catherine sent her elsewhere and they boarded the ship without further incident.

Exhaustion had crept up on both of them and they flipped a coin to see who would get the bunk. Catherine won and let Morgan had the bunk anyway. Silently, eyes downcast, she made her way through the mess and up the stairs leading to the forward battery.

She stowed her boots on a shelf beside a pod near the end of the hall and climbed inside. There was more room than she'd expected and the gravity was heavier inside, pulling her back into the padded cushion. The pod tilted slightly and she tinted the glass so that no one could see her and then toyed with the audio until she found a sound that would ease her into sleep.

Wind sighed through spruce trees and rain fell fitfully against invisible window panes and she closed her eyes and pretended she was back in her childhood bedroom on a chilly autumn night.

She was fast asleep when the ship undocked and left the station several hours later. She slept soundly until they neared the relay and EDI woke her, asking her to return to her station.

They were heading for Palaven.


	3. Chapter 3 The View of Palaven

Transit to Palaven after exiting the relay was an estimated eighteen hours. Travelling through the relay might be instantaneous, but travel in-system was not, especially when they couldn't make quick FTL jumps to their destination. They were running dark which meant they'd have to make the journey the slow way with sub-light engines only.

They were actually headed for Menae, Palaven's moon, which the turians had turned into a massive military base. The Commander's plan was to locate Primarch Fedorian and bring him back to the Citadel for a summit meeting with representatives of several other major species to work out a plan of attack or defence. Catherine knew everyone would feel better once there was some kind of direction for them to follow.

With twelve hours left go before they reached Palaven, Catherine's first official watch ended and one of her subordinates arrived to take her place.

Ai-Wei Lightfeather snapped a sharp salute and Catherine almost flinched away from it.

"You really don't need to salute me, Ai-Wei," Catherine told the petite Asian woman. "I'm just a Chief."

"All the same, ma'am, you're my superior and it would feel wrong not to."

Catherine rolled her eyes but gave the woman a smile and salute in return and said, "Don't make a habit of it."

The ship felt crowded now with so many people aboard and so many stations manned. The tables in the mess were full and she made a sandwich and ate it standing in the kitchen. Her stomach was roiling and she had to force herself to chew and swallow every bite.

Never before had she been on the brink of battle and her mind and body didn't know what to make of the strange mixture of anticipation and fear. There were no gentle butterflies flitting about inside her. It was a wasp nest on high alert, buzzing and crawling around her heart and the slightest shake or jarring motion would send them swarming, stinging and burning their way out.

Catherine didn't know how to deal with this new, somewhat painful sensation and tried to distract herself by people watching. Crew came and went from the mess and lounges, a marine patrolled the deck, walking in circles, stopping at the elevator every turn and then starting the circuit again.

She noticed there was someone new in the med-bay, an older grey haired woman in the lab uniform of a medical officer. Catherine's considered going to introduce herself, but thought better of it given her mood and went to the crew quarters instead.

Samantha was passed out and snoring gently in their shared bunk and all the chairs in the room were occupied. Needing some space Catherine took the elevator down to the shuttle bay, some part of her telling her it would be unoccupied.

She was wrong, but the vaulted ceiling and expansive floor space was enough to give the impression of solitude and she stepped off the elevator with a nodded hello to Ivan and the woman he was talking to near the doors.

The FENRIS mech that had been left behind aboard the ship the day the Reapers hit stopped to scan her and gave a series of low beeps that sounded unnervingly like growling before stomping off to continue on its patrol.

Her eyes roved about the space she had visited so rarely and she nearly ran into a man coming around the corner from the lift where the primary shuttle was docked.

"Sorry," she said hurriedly. "I wasn't paying attention."

"Neither was I." The man held out his hand to her. "Don't believe we've met. Lieutenant Steve Cortez."

She shook his hand and managed not to swallow her tongue as she stared at his strikingly blue eyes.

"Catherine Hogan," was all she said. She gave her head a shake. "Chief Life Support Tech."

He gave her a look that made her realize what a tool she sounded like.

"Sorry," she said, removing her foot from her mouth. "You have the bluest eyes I have ever seen. Hard not to look."

"He's gay," came a shout from across the deck. Catherine peered around a support strut to see James amid a pile of cargo crates that he'd built into a cave around his work station.

"Isn't that right, Esteban?" He called out again.

"Esteban? Didn't you just say Steve?" Catherine felt confused, as if she'd walked into the middle of a conversation.

"Lieutenant Vega has a thing for nicknames," Steve explained. "I'm sure he'll have one for you soon. Anyway, what bring you down here?"

"Just needed to be somewhere quiet. The ship's become a busy place the last few days."

"You got that right," Steve said and leaned back on the console. "So, you new?"

"No, no. I came from Earth," she said. "You?"

"Earth," he replied, though not with the same sadness as others would have. His sorrow seemed older, like he'd grown into it. "Surprised we haven't met. I've been down here for months bringing the Normandy back up to Alliance standards. I've seen action though so I'm taking over as shuttle pilot since Mr. Vega has a tendency to crash them."

"I'm just a tech, and to be honest I'm feeling a little overwhelmed," Catherine revealed. "I never trained for service on a warship."

"Well, if you were here in the first place it was because Anderson saw something in you," Steve said. "That you're here still, is because the Commander sees something in you. Either way, this is where you belong. Don't doubt it for a minute."

Catherine felt herself warm towards the man instantly. There was a kindness about him that was rare in most men. She got the impression that the quiet thoughtfulness she sensed was not often overshadowed by the obvious grief in his heart.

"I appreciate you saying so, Steve," she said softly, taking his hand again and giving it a tiny squeeze, hoping he would take it for what it was; an subtle act of compassion.

The corner of his mouth switch in the direction of a smile. "Nice to meet you, Catherine. I should get back to work. Vega did a real number on my shuttle and I've got a lot of work still to repair it."

He strode away from her back to where the huge Kodiak shuttle was lifted several feet off the deck so he could work on the underside. Catherine watched him for a moment. She was curious to know how such a young man developed such old eyes, eyes filled with so much pain.

"Hey, chica. Over here." James bellowed at her from across the room.

"I guess chica has become my nickname," she said loud enough for Steve to hear.

"Naw," Steve called back. "He calls all the pretty girls that."

On one hand Catherine felt relieved that had not become her nickname. On the other she felt a touch of disappointment that it wasn't something special between her and the Lieutenant.

She crossed the deck and came around the desk he was tinkering at to stand across from him. He finished what he was doing and looked up, smiling broadly. Catherine watched the smile turn to a look of shock.

"¡Zócalo! What happened to your hair?"

"Wow, that was so not the reaction I was going for," Catherine said in exasperation. "Glad to know I look like crap."

She grimaced and James' smile returned. He reach across the workbench and rubbed at her short curls.

"It's cute," he said with a saucy wink. "So, you never did accept my apology."

"I guess I figured I owed you one too," she said. She pushed aside various rifle parts piled on a crate beside the workbench and was about to sit down when she noticed how greasy it was and changed her mind.

James snorted and said, "Yeah. Right." He glanced up at her and saw her forehead creasing. "Oh, you were serious. Why do you owe me an apology?"

"I snapped at you too."

He pointed at her, his eyes narrowing. "You're Canadian, aren't you?"

"What makes you think that?," she asked.

"Because your apologizing for sticking up for yourself," he said with a bit of a smirk. "They can knock down all the borders they want but a Canuck is still a Canuck."

"Nothing wrong with mending bridges." She leaned across the table and looked down at the gun he had pulled apart. "M-3 Predator?" she asked.

"The lady knows her pistols," James sounded pleased. "Thought you weren't a soldier."

She shrugged, remembering the last time she's picked up a weapon at the firing range with her friends. Friends who were likely all now dead. "We all got basic weapons training. I always preferred the M-5 Phalanx myself."

"Oh, stop it, chica, you're turning me on," James hissed through his teeth and fanned himself with one hand.

"That so?" Catherine said slyly and picked up another weapon sitting closer to her on the bench. "Would you be impressed if I knew that this is an N7 Crusader? A weapon the general infantry isn't even supposed to know about, never mind lowly techs like myself. It's a stupidly heavy weapon that makes up for that drawback with the fact that it's got a deadly accuracy rating."

As she spoke she braced the shotgun on her hip and ran her fingers down the square barrel, looking up through her eye lashes at him. It had been meant as a flirtatious, playful gesture, but when she met his eyes there was something else altogether.

There was no denying she felt it too. It raised goose bumps all along back and arms and brought a rush of heat to her palms and neck.

James was frozen in place. His eyes slowly tracked down from her eyes, across her chest and to her cocked hip where the shotgun rested.

"Damn, girl," he muttered.

Feeling intensely embarrassed, Catherine nearly dropped the heavy weapon as the fumbled to put it back on the desk.

"I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head, disgusted with herself. "That was so incredibly inappropriate. I should go."

James thrust out an arm as she tried to pass him. The bulging muscles of his fore arm brushed against her chest before she could stop and an almost painful burst of pleasure exploded through her breasts. Her nipples were rock hard and probably showing even through the padded material of her shirt.

He grinned at her. Not the lewd expression she expected, but a slightly embarrassed but still entertained smile.

"You running?" he said softly.

"No," she said uselessly. "I just... I should go."

"Come back soon," he said huskily.

Feeling a crimson blush creep up her face she put a hand on his arm and pushed him, but not as roughly as she'd wanted to. She started to rush away but turned when she was only a few steps from him. She turned her head to find him still watching her.

"Are you going down to Menae?" she asked.

His boyish grin disappeared. "Yeah."

She let her face soften into a smile, though she couldn't control the sadness in her eyes.

"Be careful," she whispered.

"Thanks," James replied.

He didn't turn back to his work and Catherine had to break their eye contact. It was harder than she'd expected, and she felt his gaze on her back as she entered the elevator and headed up to the crew deck.

The rest of the ship was no less busy than it had been before. Thankfully the Alliance had seen fit to keep the port observation deck a public space and had even been clever enough to keep the bar and install a games table.

Catherine entered the room to find two off duty marines playing cards and a man leaning on the back of a couch staring blankly out the viewport.

A barstool beckoned invitingly and she sat down heavily and poured herself a drink from a pink tinted beverage tube someone had left out on the counter. She had no idea what it was but there was no warning label stating the contents were for dextros only so she down it in one swig, savouring the scald of raw alcohol.

It was minty with a floral aftertaste and Catherine turned the bottle around her hands looking for some indication of what it was or even where it was from. Eventually she gave up, assumed it was some new Earth blend, and poured herself another.

The second went down easier and by the third, Catherine realized that the bees in her stomach had settled. The burning pressure was gone and replaced by a prickly itch that still made her want to scream, but was almost ignorable.

She wanted to tell herself that it was a result of the alcohol in her blood stream, or even the fatigue creeping up on her, but the truth was she'd been sitting there replaying in her mind the encounter with Lieutenant Vega in the shuttle bay.

The arousal she'd felt had been sudden and intense and very unlike her. She'd always been careful in matters of the heart, treading carefully and never letting her more base urges get the better of her. She was no prude, she'd had her fair share of partners in bed, but never had she been so instantly attracted to anyone as she had been to James Vega in that moment.

She punished herself with another shot and swore under her breath. How did she go from being intimidated by the towering boulder of a man to a teenager with raging hormones?

The fourth shot had put a warm, insulating blanket of numbness around the wasps nest and Catherine stood carefully, sure it was the ship swaying and not her.

For the second time that day she nearly ran into someone as she went through a door and the asari she'd met earlier caught her as she stumbled.

Catherine mumbled an apology and tried to keep going, but Liara stopped her.

"Please don't tell me you were drinking what was on the bar."

"I'm so sorry," Catherine said, an overwhelming sense of guilt settling on her. "Was that yours?"

"It was, but I'm much less concerned with how much is left than with how much you drank."

"Four shots," Catherine said even as she wondered if maybe it had been five.

"Oh dear," Liara said. "That was an asari liqueur and quite potent. Oh well, the good news is that you'll sleep very well for the next few hours. Let's get you somewhere safe."

As Liara spoke Catherine felt her legs go week and the deck came up to meet her. Next she knew she was sitting on the cold metal floor and Liara was trying to help her stand.

"I knew I shouldn't have left it out," Liara chided herself. "A single shot is fortifying, but anything more than three is bordering on dangerous."

With an arm around the tall asari's waist, Catherine let herself be led to the crew quarters. With slurred words Catherine told Liara where her bunk was but Samantha was still asleep in it. When Liara tried to ease her down into the lower bunk Catherine protested but was too intoxicated to stop it from happening.

She felt her boots slide off her feet and a blanket come up over the body. Warm currents washed through her, waves of approaching dreams lapped at the edges of her mind, and though she tried to fight it, sleep was upon her in seconds.

She woke later to the buzz of an alert sounding through the ship. She sat up quickly, reality crashing down on her, images of Earth flashing rapidly through her still hazy mind before she managed to tamp it all back down.

"EDI, how long have I been sleep?" she asked.

"Roughly ten hours. We are on approach to Palaven and should be there within the hour. Your next shift begins in just under two hours."

Catherine thanked the VI and swung her legs over the edge of the bunk. Her boots had been placed neatly side by side against the wall and someone had been thoughtful enough to bring her a canteen full of water.

She chugged at it desperately, the cold water soothing her parched mouth and throat. She'd never been much of a drinker but four shots had never been enough to incapacitate her. She'd have to remember to ask next time before consuming anything from the bar. She was mildly surprised that EDI hadn't pointed out to her what she was drinking. The VI was usually quite intuitive.

Her stomach growled angrily but not with hunger. Catherine doubled over and fought the urge to expel what little was inside her.

"Drink the rest of the water." Morgan's voice came from the bunk above.

"Don't think I can," Catherine croaked.

"Do it anyway," Morgan insisted. "You'll feel better in a few minutes. Since when do you drink anyway?"

"It was an accident."

"Right," Morgan said, doubt dripping from her words.

"Liara left out some fancy asari drink and I imbibed a little more than I should have."

Catherine forced the canteen back to her lips and tipped her head back, letting the liquid pool in her cheeks before she swallowed it in a huge gulp.

Morgan was right. The sickly feeling dulled as the water found its way down.

"Did I wake you?" she asked Morgan.

"No, I was kinda just lying here staring at the ceiling," Morgan said softly. "Not really sure what to do with myself."

"I know what you mean," Catherine said with a heavy sigh. "This is supposed to be down time, but..."

"Feels like we should be doing something, right?" Morgan leaned over the side of the bunk and rested her chin on folded arms. "But what can we do other than our jobs? We have no contacts, no political clout, or societal sway. I feel a little useless."

"You do realize that we're on the most important ship in the galaxy, right?" Catherine looked up at her friend wanting to change the topic, but knowing Morgan needed to talk. "Everything we do to keep her running is useful. There isn't another ship out there who can sneak up to Palaven and back out again without drawing Reaper attention."

Morgan rolled back into the bunk. "I know, but you get what I'm saying right?"

"Yeah, I get it."

Catherine pushed herself to her feet and pulled on her boots, lacing them up with sleep swollen fingers that refused to be as dexterous as they normally were.

"I should get up and stretch my legs before my shift. I'm guess I'll be in that chair for a while. Get some sleep, Morgan. There's a new medic. Maybe she can give you something if you can't find your way to dream land."

"I might do that. See ya, Cat," Morgan said and rolled to face the wall.

The CIC was a bustle of activity when Catherine arrived. Samantha was at her post next to the steps up to the galaxy map and didn't look up as Catherine strode by. The woman worked at a furious pace when she was on duty.

The hatch leading to the bridge was closed. Catherine hadn't even known there was a door there that could close. It opened as she neared it and the quiet of the bridge enveloped her as it shut behind her.

Joker turned in his seat to see who had joined him.

"Hey, Cat. Hear you were pretty plastered. Got a hangover? Should I whisper?"

"Do you ever sleep Joker?" Catherine asked, noticing the dark bags under his eyes.

"Not as often as I'd like." He sounded disgruntled. "No one else can really pilot the Normandy. No one on board anyway. EDI takes over when we're idling in a system, but most of the time it's just me."

"Must get pretty rough," Catherine said moving closer to his chair to get a better look out the windows.

"If I didn't love my job so much it probably would, yeah," he said. "But the Normandy is my baby."

"So, Joker I've got to ask... EDI; she's not really a VI is she?"

"What tipped you off?"

"The fact that she calls you on your bull," Catherine said. "So what is she?"

"I am an artificial intelligence, Catherine." EDI's blue sphere sprang up to the left of them. "I am sorry for the deception, but AIs are not typically welcomed by humans or other species."

"I've always hated the term artificial intelligence," Catherine said, crossing her arms. "Artificial implies that something is fake and somehow less than what it replaces. You're smarter than all of us put together and your intelligence is just as real as mine or Joker's. Just because you lack a body doesn't mean your existence is any less valid."

"Oh, I like you, Cat," Joker said loudly. "Take that just about everyone else out there!"

"Thank you, Catherine," EDI said, her voice as even as before. "Though I am self-aware, I am unable to experience emotions as a sentient being would. My capacity for loyalty is programmed. Even my ability to understand humour is based on a heuristic algorithm in my core processor. Philosophers long ago determined that it is the facility to interpret and express emotion that determines sentience in a being."

"EDI, it was your ability to do exactly that that made me think you were something much more than a VI," Catherine said.

The AI was silent for a long moment before she said, "You are very kind, Catherine."

Catherine didn't respond. Something in the sky ahead had caught her eye. It was moving away from the at incredible speed and the only evidence of its passing was the winking of stars behind it as it moved.

Her eyes went in and out of focus as she tried to make out its shape. A ringing in her ears blocked out all other sound and she felt a pressure building up behind her eyes. She shut her eyes and shook her head and the feeling dissipated.

"What is that?" she asked Joker.

"A Reaper." Came a voice from behind her.

Catherine spun on the spot to find Commander Shepard in full combat gear standing behind her. The woman was over six feet tall to begin with and her armoured boots added another two inches to that height. Her shoulder length hair was pulled back in a tight bun and she had her helmet tucked under her arm.

"Commander." Catherine stood to attention.

"At ease," Shepard said idly, not taking her eyes off the leviathan of a ship hurtling through space ahead of them. "You're not technically supposed to be up here."

"I'm sorry, Commander," Catherine said meekly. "I'll go."

"It's all right, Chief," Shepard said, her vivid green eyes meeting Catherine's for the first time. "This is your first time into battle isn't it?"

"Yes, ma'am, it is."

"Don't worry," Shepard said reassuringly. "The Normandy is one asset we can't afford to lose. She'll be running silent and well away from the action, right Joker?"

"You bet, Commander," Joker said, all business.

"Stay up here for now if you want, Hogan, but don't make a habit of it." Shepard turned away from Catherine and leaned over Joker's chair. "Have Cortez prep the shuttle, and tell Liara and Vega to gear up. And tell Liara I want her in armor, not a lab coat. I don't care how much plating it has."

"Aye aye," Joker said and the Commander left the bridge without another word.

Joker relayed the orders with much more clarity and professionalism than he had Shepard's message regarding shore leave. The man was a juxtaposition of characters. One minutes cracking jokes and laying on the sarcasm as thick as he could, the next he was the Alliance's best star ship pilot chauffeuring a Council Specter around the galaxy.

"Why didn't you tell me I wasn't supposed to be here?" Catherine hissed at him.

"The Commander has bigger things to worry about, Cat," Joker answered. "Trust me. She doesn't care." Then he gave a serious look and added, "But really, you should go."

Catherine threw her hands in the air and gave Joker a look of utter frustration. Fighting back the urge to give him the finger she spun on her heel to leave.

"I was kidding, Cat," Joker called to her. "Geez, lighten up."

"You're such a dick," Catherine came back around and flicked his ear.

"We're coming up on Palaven," Joker said, his tone suddenly flat. "It doesn't look pretty."

Catherine stepped around the co-pilots chair to the right of Joker and leaned on the inactive console to get a better view out the window.

The local sun, Trebia, was brilliant white and made it nearly impossible to see anything other than the outline of the planet growing ever larger in front of them. Joker banked the ship left and the sun was eclipsed by Palaven allowing them their first view of the surface.

"Oh my..." Catherine mouth ceased being able to produce words as she realized what she was seeing.

The night side of the planet was a wash of destruction, mottled with the same violent reds and oranges as Earth had been only more densely. Explosions blossomed in the sky all around the planet, crisscrossed by the fierce electric lines of Reaper lasers firing mercilessly on the turian ships surrounding the world.

"The turians are getting pounded," Joker said, his voice for once conveying the gravity of his words. "Their fleets are going to be decimated."

"If only that were true," Catherine said as tears pricked at her eyes. "One tenth they could recover from. One tenth they could fight back with. I wish Earth were only being decimated. This is an extermination. This is extinction."

"Aren't you a downer," Joker said sulkily.

"I have to go," Catherine choked. "I can't watch this."

She turned and hurried from the bridge. Half way through the CIC her omni-tool buzzed, alerting her to a shift change and she swore, running back to her station. Exchanging only a few words with the older man whose name her brain refused to produce, she flopped into the seat and buried herself in her work.

When EDI alerted her that the shuttle was leaving the bay, her mind went to James and she found herself filled with an intense hope that he would come back safe and unharmed. It was that hope that kept her focused through the next six hours of her shift until the shuttle returned carrying not one turian, but two.


	4. Chapter 4 After Palaven

_****** WARNING**** This chapter contains explicit and graphic sexual content and intended for mature and non-prude audiences only. Readers must use their own discretion and stop reading if they don't like what they are seeing. Can't take the heat, get out of the kitchen. Or shuttle bay in this case;)**_

The Normandy was in a state of chaos the entire time Shepard and her squad were on the moon. The ship systems were shutting down and booting back up again one at a time. The crew scrambled to keep the things running and their emissions dark, but it was touch and go.

Joker finally broke down and called the Commander and she sent Liara back to take a look. By the time the asari arrived the problems seemed to have resolved themselves, but neither Joker nor Liara could pinpoint where exactly the shut downs were originating from. EDI's reaction was strange. She seemed unaware of the power failures and systems shut downs.

When Shepard returned everything was on the level again, though Joker's voice betrayed the worry he felt. When EDI announced that Shepard was on her way from the shuttle bay Catherine craned her neck to see through the CIC to the elevator. She caught a glimpse of a turians going around the corner into the war room. Seconds later, the Commander came up the ramp and into the corridor heading for the bridge.

Her armour was scuffed, scraped and spattered with ooze and filthy black ichor. Catherine caught a waft of her as she walked by and almost gagged the stench was so overpowering.

In the increasing heat of the ship the smell lingered and clung to everything. Catherine wasn't the only one suffering. Two stations down from her one of Morgan's subordinates was also choking down every breath.

Shepard didn't go all the way into the bridge as she talked to Joker and the automatic door stayed open allowing Catherine to hear everything said.

"Commander, was that Garrus?" Joker asked, a hint of pleasure in his voice.

"He's coming with us," the Commander replied. Her voice was rough and Catherine could hear the strain in it. "Get us out of here, Joker. And keep us quiet, the whole system is crawling with Reapers."

"I've gotta vent some of this heat, Commander," Joker said. "We're going to start to cook if I don't do it soon. It's already pretty hot in here."

"If we let the heat radiate here they're going to spot us in a second," Shepard said. "How long until we absolutely have to vent?"

Joker took longer than EDI liked in replying and so she jumped in to answer Shepard's question.

"If we make best speed for the relay it will be another two hours before ship wide temperatures become unbearable for the human crew. Three hours and it will become uncomfortable for the turians and asari as well. Life support will be strained during that time."

"Okay," she Commander said and was silent for a moment while she thought. "Take us away from the relay. Three-quarters speed for two hours then vent the heat sinks. Do a hard one-eighty, go dark, and head for the relay at top speed."

"Commander," EDI said. "This will add another two hours to our transit time."

Catching her meaning Shepard asked, "Joker, you had any sleep yet?"

"Had a nap here in my no longer leather and therefore not as comfortable chair."

"You good for another twenty?"

"I can do it."

"As soon as we dock at the Citadel you find a bunk and stay in it until you're well rested. Got it?"

"Got it, Commander," Joker said as he guided the ship in a wide arch heading away from Menae.

The Commander's boots rang on the metal plating and paused behind Catherine where she crouched down to eye level.

"You up for the next two hours?" she asked, knowing that Catherine had heard every word said in the bridge.

Catherine's eyes burned from the stink of the smut on the Commander's armour.

"Yes, ma'am," Catherine said breathlessly. "I'll keep us as cool as I can."

Her stomach rebelled and she had to put a hand to her mouth so she didn't throw up in her lap. She swallowed the bile down and gave a little cough.

"Hogan, I hear you got pretty drunk after your last shift," the Commander said quietly. "Are you fit for duty?"

"Yes. I'm sorry, ma'am," Catherine said. "No offence, Commander, but you stink."

Shepard laughed. A hearty, bellow of a laugh that made Catherine's heart glow despite the nausea and cold sweat clinging to her back and forehead. An armoured glove came down on her shoulder twice and then the Commander was walking away though the CIC.

Joker's voice came on through the comms overhead. "Sorry folks, it's going to get hot in here."

When the Commander was in the elevator Catherine fiddled with her controls and the fans activated, blowing away much of the smell and sending a breeze through the CIC, cooling it somewhat. But after another half hour the heat had climbed to an uncomfortable 32 degrees and it continued to climb by another two degrees every fifteen minutes.

By the time they were two hours from Menae the temperature had reached a scorching 44 degrees. Catherine had managed to keep the relative humidity down so it was a dry heat, but still incredibly uncomfortable.

Catherine was technically done her six hour shift, but had chosen to stay at her post until they were able to vent the heat from the Normandy's hull. Ai-Wei was waiting patiently behind her, insisting that she was on duty and should remain even if she wasn't doing anything.

"Cat." Joker's voice was in her ear piece.

"This hell almost over?" she asked.

"We're at the limit," he said. "You're not going to be able to stop the heat from rising now. We gotta dump. EDI says there are Reaper signatures only a few light minutes away so we gotta do this fast. How quickly can you normalize the temperature in the ship?"

Catherine thought about it for a minute. She'd never had to force the system to make changes to the internal atmosphere in a hurry before. Life support was all about keeping the ship at a state of equilibrium, not allowing the temperature to move too much in either direction.

On the originally Normandy they would have been dead already, but the new SR-2 had been built for longer recon missions and had special conduits along the surface of the hull that the internal air could be pushed through and cooled quickly. But as that too would show up on infrared scans of ships closer than four light minutes, it was a system only intended to be used once the ship was safely away from enemy contact.

"Normally it would take about fifteen or twenty minutes," Catherine said. "But if you can give me power from another area, I might be able to get the ship to a livable temperature in five."

EDI responded. "I can draw extra power from the shields or the main battery. Which would you prefer?"

"Our guns won't dent a Reaper," Joker said. "If we have to run we'll need our shields. Pull from the battery."

"I'm with Joker," Catherine said, wiping a trickle of sweat from the corner of her eye. The heat was blurring her vision and making her dizzy.

"Work fast, Cat. Venting initiated. Counting down from ten... nine... eight..."

Catherine's hands flew across her controls. She primed the hatches through all the conduits and began to siphon power away from the guns.

"Four... three... two... Venting."

A rhythmic throb pulsed through the ship. Starboard fans began sucking air out while the port fans blasted it back in, cooled by the near absolute zero of vacuum. There was a sigh of relief in the CIC as the temperature plummeted to a balmy 25 degrees Celsius.

Catherine's eyes went into overdrive as she monitored the other areas of the ship, trying to keep everywhere evenly adjusted. The Loft, above the CIC, cooled the fastest, reaching a comfortable 21 degrees in seconds, while the shuttle bay was taking significantly longer.

"Venting complete," Joker said urgently. "We've been pinged. We gotta move."

The hold was still warm but now that the rest of the ship was back to normal Catherine could cycle the air and balance the temperature throughout. She shut down the conduits and closed all hatches, trapping the warmth inside.

"Done," she called. "Let's go."

"Four and half minutes." Joker sounded impressed. "Won't even show them the tail lights."

Catherine slouched in her chair, sagging with relief. Ai-Wei stepped forward, ready to trade places.

"Impressive work, ma'am," she said. "I don't think I could have manipulated the systems so quickly."

"Thanks," Catherine answered. She heaved herself out of the seat. "Trade off with John at the regular time. Let's try to keep things running smoothly. I need a shower."

Catherine trudged off to the elevator and tried not to think about how hungry she was, or how desperately she needed to sleep. She stopped in the crew quarters for a change of clothes and a towel and headed for the showers.

Thankfully the tiny space was unoccupied and she had a modicum of privacy while she stripped down and stepped under the weak flow of water. EDI informed her that Shepard had allowed a slightly larger water ration for those on duty during the heat and Catherine used it gratefully.

Her shower still only lasted ten minutes and she just managed to rinse off the suds before the water quit. She toweled off and dressed in her most comfortable casual uniform; loose, baggy pants, running shoes and a navy blue t-shirt with the Alliance logo emblazoned across the chest.

She dumped her soiled uniform into the laundry hatch and left the showers. The aroma of someone's cooking filled the air and Catherine's stomach tried to lead her in the direction of the mess, but she spotted a turian standing at the memorial wall and her curiosity got the better of her.

"You must be Garrus," she said as she walked up to him. "I've heard a lot about you."

The turian turned to look at her, his white face paint striking against the silvery grey of his head crest and brow plate. His golden eyes studied her face before he held out a gloved, three fingered hand and Catherine took it without hesitation, giving it a firm shake.

"Primarch Adrien Victus," the turian said and Catherine's stomach dropped.

"No kidding," she said, because nothing better came to mind.

The Primarch seemed to sense her discomfort and made an attempt to ease it.

"I was told this deck was public," he said. "Have I invaded the crew's space?"

"Not at all, sir," Catherine sputtered. "And I apologize for being so forward. I assumed you were Garrus Vakarian. I never expected to even see you, let alone meet you."

"What's your name, human?" he asked.

"Catherine Hogan, sir."

"Catherine," he said slowly, as if playing with it. "An interesting name. Sounds almost turian. Where are you from?"

"Earth," she replied, relaxing somewhat. "This is my first time off planet."

"I've heard Earth is a beautiful place. I hope to see it someday."

"I hope to see it _again_ someday." Catherine sighed and crossed her arms. "I'm sorry about Palaven. Did you have any warning?"

"Some," he said. "But not enough. I wish some of my people could see this wall." He gestured to the names before them. "Far too many turians still hold your people in contempt. They refuse to accept what an important player your species has become in the galaxy, or how much you've sacrificed to help others."

"I appreciate you saying so, Primarch," Catherine said. "And everyone is thankful that you agreed to come with us. No species can do this alone."

"Quite right," the Primarch said softly. "Quite right."

Catherine stood with him for a moment longer, staring at the names on the wall and wondering how many more would fill it by the time the war was over, and how many walls the turians would need to honour their dead.

Eventually she turned and gave the turian leader a salute. "It was an honour to meet you, sir."

"The pleasure was mine, human." He return her salute turian style and she turned to go.

Morgan was watching covertly from the end of the hallway and intercepted Catherine as she walked around the elevator into the mess hall.

"Did you seriously just have a conversation with the freakin' Primarch?" she whispered.

"I thought he was Garrus," Catherine said, trying to repress a grin. "I like turians. And Joker's talked about Garrus so much. I never thought the Primarch would be down here."

"Well, shit," Morgan said with a touch of awe. "You have all the best conversations."

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you went and introduced yourself," Catherine said. "He seems to like humans."

"I don't think so. Don't have the balls for that," Morgan said with a snort. "Anyway, you want something to eat? The new Mess Sergeant made a stew. It's pretty good."

Catherine served herself and sat down at the larger table tucked between the elevator and support struts. The stew was hot and smelled delicious, but Catherine only managed to pick at it.

Somehow Morgan knew that she had been on the bridge during the approach to Palaven and wanted details. She wouldn't take Catherine's hint that she didn't want to talk about what she'd seen.

Finally, Catherine was blessed with a jaw cracking yawn and she was able to bow out of the conversation gracefully. But just as she was standing to leave they were thrown into momentary darkness and the ship shuddered around them.

"Shit," Morgan said. "What the fuck was that?"

There were shouts from medical and Catherine spun around to find the medic she'd seen earlier running out of med bay while several marines with fire extinguishers rushed in.

"Are we under attack?" Catherine asked, and was surprised when EDI didn't respond. "EDI? Why isn't EDI answering?"

Everyone on the crew deck crowded around the windows looking into the med bay to try to see what was going on. Liara came out of her quarters, but stood back from the crowd with a turian who Catherine assumed had to be Garrus.

Not long after the initial moment of darkness, Commander Shepard came jogging around the corner and the door to medical hissed open. She cast a glance at the gathered crowd but didn't give any indication that she wanted them to disperse.

They couldn't hear what was going on inside and when Shepard activated the door to the AI core smoke poured out obscuring anything they might have been able to see within.

After a annoyingly anxious wait, Shepard emerged followed by a stunning looking synthetic woman.

"Isn't that the thing that attacked Major Alenko on Mars?" Morgan said aloud.

A current of fear raced through Catherine. The body was what remained of a Cerberus infiltration unit. If it was active did that mean that Cerberus was controlling it? Did that mean that Shepard was still a Cerberus agent after all?

They all backed away from the window as Shepard came out with the synthetic. They stood before the assembled crew and the metal woman smiled at them.

"Everyone," said Shepard. "EDI has a body."

There were gasps of surprise and sighs of relief. Catherine felt so much better so suddenly that she almost didn't care about the explanation. She stood in the background, listening as EDI told them what she had done and why the ship had been experiencing power fluctuations. When EDI and Shepard left, Catherine slipped away as well and headed for a sleeper pod hoping to get some rest.

The pod she had used previously had not been used since by anyone else and was still set to her customizations. She climbed inside and leaned back into the padding expecting her exhaustion to overtake her in minutes.

For the next hour she dozed on and off for several minutes at a time, but each time she did her mind was plagued with images of Palaven and the Reapers surrounding it. Turian dreadnaughts erupting in great gouts of flame and falling careening from the sky. Fighters, the dogs of war, circling like angry birds sparrow around a hawk, harrying and abusing Reapers, only to be shot down by the bizarre Oculus fighters.

It was all too much. Catherine's mind simply could not settle and sleep eluded her completely. She gave up and climbed out of the pod, rubbing at her itching eyes and stretching her aching limbs.

The crew deck was quiet. Even aboard ships there was an attempt to maintain a day night cycle so as not to completely destroy the circadian rhythms of the crew, but Catherine wasn't sure what to do with herself despite having the deck mostly to herself.

The idea of being able to see out into the great empty void of space made her feel queasy, and with few places to go on the ship where she could be alone and away from windows, the shuttle bay seemed like the place to be.

The elevator dropped her quickly down two decks and the doors opened to a space that was blessedly empty and silent. She ran her fingers through her short hair and decided that she would jog around the deck a few times. Maybe that would wear her out enough that she would fall asleep.

The dog mech, who she had since learned was names KEI-9, ignored her and she was just finishing her first lap when a voice called out from beside her. She jumped with fright, tripping over a floor strut and coming down hard on her knees.

"Shit, sorry chica." James reach down, offering a hand to help her up. "Didn't mean to scare you. You all right?"

Catherine grabbed his hand and felt a moment of weightlessness as he pulled her to her feet. He was frighteningly strong. She rolled up her pant leg to investigate her burning knee and found it was bleeding.

"I'll be fine," she said, letting her pant leg fall. "I thought I was alone down here."

"C'mon over here," he said as he walked back to his man cave. "I've got a first aid kit."

"I'm fine, really," Catherine protested, but followed him anyway.

The space had changed subtly since she'd seen it last. A low cot was set up atop some creates against the wall beside his desk. A dirty tarp that he appeared to be using as a blanket was spilling over onto the floor. The guns he'd been working on were stowed away and the thermal clips, wires and other junk had been piled neatly to one side.

"You don't sleep down here, do you?" Catherine asked, eyeing the cot suspectly.

James shrugged as he pulled a medkit from under his desk.

"When I do sleep, this is where I do it."

He dropped the heavy kit on the table and then picked her up by the waist and put her down beside it, her legs dangling over the edge in front of him. She tried again to protest, but he ignored her and reached down to roll up her pant leg.

"I made it hurt, I'll make it feel better," he said gently.

The softness in his voice was odd to hear. His fingers were light as he used a sterile cloth to wipe away the trail of blood on her calf. The cut was deeper than she'd thought and it stung as James dripped a topical antibiotic onto it.

While he worked she took the opportunity to study his features more closely. His skin was dark and hid the many scars crisscrossing his neck and forearms. She'd originally thought he was just deeply tanned, but every time he bent she could see down the back of his shirt that the ruddy colouring continued past his collar.

His tattoos were jet black and looked like a woven mesh of blades. She wondered what they meant to him and was tempted to tell him about her own tiny tattoo, but was too enthralled watching him to interrupt his tender ministrations.

On the right side of his neck he had a wound of his own. It was a deep gouge and her knowledge of human anatomy told her that it was an injury he was lucky had not killed him. It looked deep and like it stung.

Neither of them said anything as he peeled the backing of an adhesive bandage and smoothed it down over her small wound. He gave her pat on the thigh, his hand lingering a moment longer than was necessary, but Catherine didn't jump down from the table.

Instead when he straightened and took a small step back she reach out and pulled him closer by the front of his shirt. He gave her a questioning look.

"You've got an injury of your own that needs tending," she said, flipping open the lid of the med kit and reaching for another sterile cloth.

"It's not so bad," he said, pushing her hand away as she reached to wipe away the dried blood.

"Shut up." Her tone was firm but she said it with a smile. "Come closer."

He did as he was told, leaning to rest his palms on the table to either side of her so she could easily reach his neck. Her face was only inches from his as she worked. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek.

"Was it bad down there?" she asked, keeping her voice low.

"Worst action I've ever seen," James replied, his eyes downcast. "Millions dead. Seeing devastation like that doesn't make you feel a lot of hope."

"I know what you mean," she said. "Well, no I guess I don't, but I have my own feelings of doubt. Do you want to tell me about it?"

James was quiet. She finished cleaning up his wound and blew gently on it until the antiseptic dried. He closed his eyes and breathed a small sigh.

"No," he said and then opened his eyes and looked into hers. "Yes."

It only took her a few minutes to apply the long thin bandage to his wound, but when she was done he stayed where he was and kept talking. He told her about the monstrosities the Reapers had created from the species they abducted. Twisting together turians and krogan into massive, violent beasts with armour plating and clawed hands that could rip through a solider with one blow.

He'd seen downed turian dreadnoughts, that had had crews of hundreds, in burning piles of wreckage spread across the moons surface. Reapers as tall as skyscrapers had walked only kilometers away from them, close enough that they could hear the screeching, trumpet like bellow the creatures emitted just before they fired their weapons.

"I've seen a lot of action, but that was like nothing else," he finished.

Catherine lifted a hand and ran her fingers along the deep scar on James' right cheek. It was like a canyon, two parallel ridges running side by side from the bridge of his nose to the edge of his neatly trimmed beard.

"That how you got the scars?" she asked.

"Some of them," he said. He shift his hand and his wrist pressed up against her thigh. She didn't move away.

Her fingers traced along another prominent scar that split his lower lip and continued down to his chin. Hardly knowing what she was doing she stroked the scar again, biting her own lip as she did.

James' eyes were intense, practically glowing the low light of the shuttle bay. His mouth opened slightly to show her a row of small white teeth that without warning caught her index finger.

Holding her finger between his teeth he moved his tongue in small circles around the tip, still not taking his eyes off of hers. He let go and she let her hand fall to her lap, her breath coming quickly as he leaned in a little closer.

"You scared?" he asked.

"No," her voice trembled as she said it and a smirk crept across his face.

"You're shaking," he said and reached for her hand, holding it up so she could see the steady vibration of her fingers.

She curled her fingers around his thick thumb and let her legs settle more on the desk, pressing her thigh into his arm a little harder.

"You must be cold then," James said, his voice still low. "Maybe you should come a little closer."

He tucked his fingers behind her knees and pulled until she was sitting right on the edge of the desk, her legs spread wide to make room for him to stand.

Catherine reached out and put her hands on the hard plain of his chest and let them slide up to his shoulders where her fingers dug into the tense muscles. One of his hands rested on her knee while the other found its way around her back and settled at the base of her spine. She could feel the rough calluses through the thin material of her t-shirt.

"Warmer?" he asked despite the fact that her trembling had increased.

"A little," she whispered, not trusting her voice. "I could do with a little more heat."

"That so?" he said. "I think I can oblige. Any problem with that?"

She shook her head and his mouth came down to meet hers. He was gentle at first, taking care not to hurt her with his incredible strength, but when she lifted her legs and wrapped one around his thigh and the other around his waist, the kiss became more insistent.

Catherine felt dwarfed by the size of him, but his raw power fanned the flames of her desire and she soon found her hands creeping lower to find the waist of his pants.

She found and undid the heavy buckle of his belt, letting it fall to the deck with a thud. As she fumbled with the button at the top of his pants his hands explored her torso, fingers running up and down her spine, a bearish palm cupping and squeezing one breast at a time.

Her t-shirt vanished over her head and she leaned back so he could pull away her bra which joined his belt on the floor. Small cries of divine agony escaped her lips as he bent down and pulled a nipple into his mouth, nipping and sucking at the hardened nub.

He paused only long enough to tear away his own shirt and went to work on the other nipple. It rose to meet him in a peak of diamond hardness and he met it with vigor, his hand coming up to keep the other at attention.

Forcing herself to focus, Catherine's hands managed to undo his pants though she couldn't get them pulled down and she moaned in frustration and ecstasy until he finally hooked his hands into the waist band and pulled them down to his knees himself.

His mouth came back to hers and she reached out to grab the rigid source of his pleasure. As she wrapped her fingers around his cock he leaned into her and groaned, his tongue still inside her mouth.

She ran her thumb down the pulsing vein underneath and marveled at the size of him. Just like every other part of him, the member that presented itself like a pinnacle of manliness was as hard as rock and shockingly huge.

Her hand began to work, moving up and down and pulling and twisting until he actually begged her to stop.

"Holy fuck, chica," he said through ragged breaths.

In answer she pushed him back and leaned down until her head was at his waist and could pull the tip of him into her mouth. It was almost too much to take and she settled for swirling her tongue around the mushroom tip of it just as he had done to her finger.

With one hand he gripped the back of her head and spread his fingers through her curls. The other went under her pants and tried to find a way between her legs. The way she was bent it was impossible while she still wore her pants. His solution was to sit her up, lift her off the table and tear away her bottoms, shoes and all.

The metal of the desk was cold against her bare skin and a shiver of cold ran up her spine quickly followed by one of pleasure as his cock brushed against the side of her leg, the heat of it searing a path to her loins where he stood poised to thrust himself into her.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his lips brushing hers.

She nodded, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Yes."

Instead of burying himself inside of her he skimmed his hand up the inside of her thigh and lay his hand flat against the dripping wetness of her core. She spread her legs wider and pressed into him, letting her head tip back with a cry of anticipation.

His fingers moved deftly, caressing the edges of her but never quite entering. He rubbed at her clit until she thought she might actually stop breathing and then went back to the gentle massaging of the sensitive flesh just inside. He did this over and over until her nails dug into his back, breaking the skin and causing a rivulet of blood to run down the ridge of his spine.

And then suddenly one thick finger plunged inside of her. The loudest cry yet sprang from her throat and she clung to him as that one finger worked magic deep inside of her, twirling, pressing and probing ever deeper.

Finally, when she thought she couldn't take another second of it, he pulled his hand away and pressed himself closer. Her arms went around his neck and she slid her body forward on the desk until she started to feel the pressure of his huge cock moving into her.

She gasped at the sensation and wondered in the back of her mind if she would even be able to take all of him. Relaxing, she urged him on with unintelligible words and slowly he pressed until he was entirely sheathed inside of her.

They stopped, joined in the most intimate possible way and clung to each other, the sweat on their chests mingling and scent of their desire filling the air.

"Dios, your tight," he said into her neck and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

She felt the movement through her entire body and she gave a sharp gasp at the unexpected pain and pleasure of it.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?"

"No." She gasped again as he pulled himself out by a fraction. "Yes, but oh my god, keep it up."

His mouth found her earlobe and she tightened reflexively, drawing a rumbling groan from deep in his chest. And then he was moving, slowly at first, learning the depths to which he could thrust without hurting her, and then more quickly as she pushed him to go faster.

It was only minutes before she reached her climax, biting down on his shoulder while her whole body shuddered and ripple after swell of pure pleasure coursed through her. Moments later he clung to her even more tightly and grunted and trust in a hard, steady rhythm, pressing into her as his own release poured out of him.

She could feel him twitching and pulsing inside of her. Feel the heat of his pleasure dripping down her buttocks and pooling on the desk beneath her.

"That," Catherine managed between tattered breaths. "Was spectacular."

Before James could respond, EDI's voice came from the console beside them.

"Lieutenant Cortez is on his way down to the shuttle bay. Perhaps now would be a good time to get dressed."

Catherine and James separated and he bent down to yank his pants back up from around his ankles and tossed her bra up to her as he did. She was just pulling her t-shirt on when they heard the elevator open.

Grabbing her running shoes, Catherine gave James a quick kiss on the cheek and bolted for the door. Somehow she knew that James wouldn't say anything about their encounter, and if Steve guessed what they were up to he seemed like the kind of guy who would keep his mouth shut.

Once in the elevator Catherine called for EDI's attention.

"Please don't say anything about what just happened."

"Of course not." The AI actually sounded affronted. "I aware of everything that happens on my decks. I am well acquainted with this method of stress release."

"Thanks, EDI."

Catherine was smiling when she came off the elevator, but wishing she hadn't used up her ration of shower water. She reeked of sex and the crew who passed her could no doubt smell it. But there was nothing to be done about it so the most she could do was change into shorts and tank top and dump her clothes into the laundry.

She climbed into the empty bunk and was sleep in minutes, this time completely unassailed by nightmares and flashbacks.


	5. Chapter 5 Discord and Denial

Once again, Catherine was at her post when they docked at the Citadel and was displeased to have missed the view for a second time. She had yet to see James again since their encounter in the shuttle bay, and no one else seemed aware that it had happened. If it hadn't been for the scrapes on her ass and aches in other places, she might have thought she'd imagined it all.

They'd been docked for almost an hour and Catherine was itching to get off the ship and out onto the Citadel to explore some more. The Commander had had word from Major Alenko, as well as several others who wanted her attention and had radioed back to say she expected their stay to last for several days this time before they headed to Sur'kesh to host the joint species summit.

Catherine was alone in the mess hall pacing and waiting for Morgan to wake up when James came around the corner from the showers. He was still rubbing a towel roughly over his head and the grey tee he never seemed to change out of clung to the dampness still on his sculpted abs.

He stopped when he was Catherine and she thought she saw a shadow of a blush creep up his neck before he made his way into the galley.

"Hey chica," he said, flicking his wet towel at her. "How are ya?"

"Little sore," she said, her voice coming out much more sultry than she'd intended.

"Sore?" he exclaimed. "Whatdaya mean sore?"

She crossed her arms, cocked her hip out and let an eyebrow drift upwards.

"We're not pretending it didn't happen," James said with a slow nod of acknowledgement. "Nice."

"No, we are most definitely not pretending it didn't happen."

He dropped the towel on the counter and leaned up against the range top.

"So, uh, do we need to talk... or something," he asked.

Catherine wondered how many of these kinds of conversation he'd had in the past. He wasn't exactly the clean cut, straight laced soldier that Major Alenko was, but he still struck her as honourable and loyal. To a fault even. Not the kind of guy to love 'em and leave 'em.

She was torn about how to respond. She barely knew him, and though she liked him and was certainly attracted to him, she didn't want to imply any kind of commitment yet. However, for exactly the same reasons she didn't want to drive him away or injure the vulnerable man she could tell was just under the surface.

"We can talk if you want." She shrugged and smiled. "Or we can just let things take their course."

He pushed off from the range and closed the space between them with three long strides. She had to crane her neck to look up at him.

"So that means I can do this?" His words were both question and statement.

Catherine didn't resist as he cupped her buttocks with his enormous hands and pulled her up against him. She stood on her tip toes with her hands on his shoulders, most of her weight taken by his powerful arms.

His head came down slowly and his lips pressed softly into hers, opening and closing just enough so that she could taste his flavour. A salty, earthy taste she'd never experienced before him.

Feeling an urgency grow in her she plunged her tongue into his mouth, coiling it around his, pulling and biting at it when it ventured into hers.

She pulled away first but their heads stayed close together, their lips almost touching.

"Shit," he said with a deep exhalation. "You're like fucking catnip."

Catherine giggled, not something she was prone to doing, and pecked him quickly on the lips before pulling away completely.

She could tell that he was standing at attention and graciously turned her back so that he could adjust himself.

"Should we be concerned about regs?" she asked, turning back around to find him pouring himself a glass of milk. "Fraternization and all that?"

"How much do you really care?" James asked over his shoulder.

"You needn't worry, Catherine," EDI said from the holographic screen mounted in the kitchen. "Technically you are Navy and Lieutenant Vega is Marine and therefore your respective ranks do no conflict. Also, you are crew and he is part of Shepard's squad with no officially assigned duties aboard the ship."

Now it was Catherine's turn to blush. "Thanks for clearing that up, EDI." She took a step closer to the vid screen and said more quietly, "I love you EDI, but some conversations and... other moments are meant to be private."

"Of course, Catherine. I apologize for the intrusion."

"Hey," James interjected. "Don't rag on EDI. I was a fan of her warning last night."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Vega, but I believe I understand which moments Catherine is referring to. She has already requested that I keep my knowledge of your affair to myself."

Now it was James' turn to raise an eyebrow.

Catherine raised her hands and shook her head. "Her word, not mine."

"So let me get this straight," he said after chugging down half his glass of milk. "We're letting things take their course, but we're not telling anyone."

"Well, we didn't exactly have time last night to discuss it," she said in her defense. "But I'd prefer not to become the hot topic of scuttlebutt."

"Fair enough," he said and finished off his milk.

He dragged the back of his hand across his mouth and grinned at her.

"The ship's pretty empty right now, Catnip," he said, glancing around the vacant tables.

"Sounds like you've found my nickname." She grinned at him. "I like it."

"When it fits, it fits," he said. "So, what do you say? We could christen the AI core. Joker would hate us."

Catherine laughed at the thought of Joker's reaction if he found out they'd had sex essentially inside EDI. She wanted to say yes, could feel the excitement rising, but Morgan came around the corner yawning and stretching away her stiffness and broke the moment.

James stayed cool, leaning on the range with his arms folded across his chest, but Catherine instinctively straightened and pretended like nothing was happening.

"Morgan, I don't think you've met Lieutenant Vega." Her voice was pitched a little too high. "This is Morgan O'Niall, my best friend."

Morgan held out her hand to James, looking like a child beside him.

"Oddly enough that's not my only job on the Normandy," she said, giving Catherine a funny look. "Chief Shields and Defense Matrix Technician."

"Nice to meet you, Chief." He gave her hand a firm shake and her tiny palm seemed to disappear inside his huge paw. "We were just discussing... protocol."

"Huh," Morgan huffed, and Catherine knew right then that her friend was not fooled.

James seemed to sense this as well and made his exit. "I'm heading out. Catch you later."

Catherine watched him go and obviously didn't hide the hunger in her eyes very well because as soon as they heard the elevator doors close Morgan was on her.

"Please tell me that was what I think it was," Morgan exclaimed excitedly.

Catherine blushed and shushed her. "It's nothing, Morgan. Leave it alone."

"Oh c'mon, Cat! You have to share."

"Innocent flirtation really," Catherine said, and then allowed a fraction of the truth to come out. "We kissed. Last night in the shuttle bay."

"Just a kiss? Really?"

"Morgan, have you ever known me to be more free with my affections than that?"

Catherine's friend narrowed her eyes and said, "Fine. But you have got tell me if things get juicier."

"I promise." She drew an 'x' over her heart. "If things become more than they are right now, I'll tell you everything."

Satisfied, Morgan dropped the subject. She ate a hurried breakfast while Catherine rushed her, eager to get out on the station.

Before they could leave Morgan insisted on going back to their quarters to get a different pair of shoes and while Morgan rummaged in her locker, Catherine remembered the gift the asari hairdresser had given her.

She jumped out of her chair and whipped her locker open, searching desperately for it. The uniform she'd worn that day had been through the wash once already and it was very likely the gift had been lost, but she searched anyway.

"What are you doing?" Morgan asked as Catherine tore frantically through her belongings.

"Remember how that asari gave me a gift?"

"Yeah, she said it was for luck. What was it anyway?"

"I don't know," Catherine said tensely. "I forgot about it and dumped it in the laundry with my clothes."

Morgan made a sound of sympathy and Catherine continued to dig. She almost wished that she kept her belongs in a better state of order, but just as she was reaching the point of pulling everything out and sorting through it properly her fingers curled around the velvet pouch the asari had given her.

She sighed with relief and pulled it out, cradling it gently in her hand and hoping that whatever was within was intact. Lowering herself to the floor she leaned back against the locker. Morgan crouched beside her.

The drawstrings of the bag came open easily despite the soaking they'd taken. Catherine held out her hand and tipped the bag up, letting the object within spill out into her waiting palm.

It was small and silver, no bigger than her thumb nail. Face down it was an obscure and unrecognizable shape, but clearly a pendant of some kind with a small hoop attached to allow it be strung on a chain.

Catherine fingered it gently and turned it over and her mind began to reel.

"Well, now I really wish I'd told you why I cut all my hair off," she said to Morgan.

"What is it?" Morgan leaned in closer to get a better look.

The pendant was an image of a woman kneeling in profile with her arms stretched out on either side. Her extended arms were hung with fabric which gave her the appearance of having wings. Her features were unmistakably asari, her head crest flaring out behind her head, but the resemblance to the ancient Egyptian goddess Isis was striking.

"I don't get it." Morgan shook her head in confusion. "What has this got to do with why you cut your hair?"

"You didn't get any classical education, did you?" Catherine asked.

"Not really," Morgan said. "Just the basic primary and secondary before I enlisted."

"I went to a private school," Catherine explained. "We studied a lot of useless crap, but some of it was pretty interesting. Including ancient Earth mythology. You really don't recognize this?"

She held up the pendant so that Morgan could see it in better light.

"No, sorry," Morgan said with an apologetic shrug.

"It looks just like Isis," Catherine said and proceeded to explain to Morgan some of the ancient traditions surrounding death and the afterlife.

"So that's why you did it," Morgan said. "Weird that she gave you this. That's some serious coincidence."

"It's not just that," Catherine went on. "Isis was one of the most popular of all Egyptian deities. Officially she was goddess of motherhood and fertility, but she was also believed to be the protector of the dead."

"Okay, yeah that makes it a lot more weird," Morgan said with a little shiver. "You cut all your hair off mourning the dead and an asari give you an amulet that looks just like an ancient Earth goddess who protects the dead."

"There's more," Catherine went on. "Isis cults, and there were a lot of those, considered her to be the goddess of rebirth and reincarnation. She was the ultimate symbol of the wheel of life."

"But this isn't Isis," Morgan pointed out. "We don't know who this is to the asari."

"Doesn't matter," Catherine said and undid the silver chain around her neck. "To me it's Isis."

The silver chain had been something shed picked up from a street vendor her first day in Vancouver years before. There'd never been a pendant on it and now it felt like she'd waiting all those years for that gift.

She clasped the chain back in place and smoothed it down against her shirt. Morgan stood and made a face, not understanding Catherine's sudden connection to the alien symbol.

They left the ship and headed for the Persidium Commons. When they arrived Catherine went to the first banking terminal she spied and the withdrew on a credit chit all the money in her account. She even paid the additional hundred credit fee to have the chit keyed to her biometrics in case it was lost or stolen.

No one knew for how long the Citadel economy might stay stable and Catherine felt better knowing that all her money was safely on her person. The Alliance would provide for all her basic needs, but that didn't include meals on the Citadel, drinks or admission to clubs, or concerts or movies.

Catherine found it difficult to imagine herself attending any form of entertainment, but Morgan insisted that she at least consider it. She said it would keep her sane and distracted, able to sleep at night.

Thankfully, Morgan was not looking at her when she said this and didn't notice the smirk that emerged as Catherine remembered the distraction that had lead to her first good nights sleep on the Normandy.

James had provided just the release she'd needed, but she wasn't sure she could let it happen again. Part of what had made it so good, so releasing, had been the spontaneity of it. She'd gone down to the shuttle bay with no expectations other than to go for a stroll and clear her head. Finding James there, and then finding herself in his arms, had been like something out of a dream.

Walking around in the open air and bright lights of the Persidium, Catherine found it hard to imagine a second encounter with the man who seemed made for secrets and shadows.

She pushed James from her mind and tried to focus on the sights and sounds around them. As they walk, she found her hand continuously at her throat, playing with the little pendant dangling there.

It sat perfectly on her chest, just below the curve of her collar bone. It felt right. She felt... safer somehow for having it. Like receiving last rites before death, she felt like now there would be something at the end. An answer, a conclusion, maybe even something new. Not just silence and the absence of life.

For the first time she admitted to herself that death was stealing ever closer with each minute she spent on the Normandy. Not that anywhere else was any safer, but the Normandy went looking for trouble, and always found it.

This feeling, it didn't erase the fear of death, or crush the wasp nest of anxiety and anguish in her heart, but it made the mystery of the unknown a little easier to bear.

Even as this new sensation came upon her, a little knot took up residence in the pit of her stomach. It was small and easy to ignore while surrounded by hundreds of people, few of whom were worrying about problems bigger than arguments with their bosses or where to buy their groceries that evening.

But as the day wore on, it became harder to block out the knowledge that the people of the Citadel were living in denial. Terminals and vid screens everywhere were broadcasting news about Reaper attacks. Citadel Security was out in full force, guarding every elevator and pedway leading to the docks. Hundreds of displaced people were filling up the bays below the Normandy.

All this was going on right in front of them and yet for the most part, the citizens of the Citadel seemed willfully oblivious to it. The more Catherine and Morgan walked around and heard news about the Blasto movie, or gossip about the latest asari starlet scandal, the more Catherine wanted to scream at them. Tear away their blinders and shields and expose the raw, suppurating truth hidden away beneath.

After a few hours it was more than she could take and she told Morgan she was going back to the Normandy. Her friend seemed to be coping better. She was more able to control her emotions and not let them get the better of her. Maybe it was because she'd had more combat training. Or maybe she was just a more well adjusted woman. Either way, she was actually enjoying her time on the Persidium and Catherine felt no need to pressure her into returning to the ship with her.

The elevator back to the docking bay was empty when Catherine stepped inside, but it made several stops along the way, letting people in and out at all different levels. She kept her eyes down and leaned against the back wall and nobody made any move to talk to her.

When the elevator slowed at Huerta Memorial she was alone again and didn't look up when the doors opened. Someone leaned on the wall beside her and it wasn't until she glanced furtively to the side that she saw the highly polished black combat boots and realized she was sharing the elevator with the Shepard.

"Commander," she looked up at the tall, dark haired woman and resisted the urge to salute. She'd learned there were times Shepard expected formality and times when she was satisfied with due deference. "I didn't realize it was you."

"I've just been to see Major Alenko." The Commander smiled. A true, joyful smile Catherine had never seen before.

"How's the Major doing?" Catherine asked.

"He's doing every well," Shepard said. "He's got a while yet in recovery, but he'll be alright. Thanks again for what you did, Hogan."

Catherine shook her head, almost annoyed to be receiving thanks again. "Commander, really, I did nothing special. Anyone could have done what I did."

"The point is that you did it," Shepard said. "You need to learn to accept thanks. I know you think you didn't do much, but knowing you were there watching over him gave me the peace of mind to do what I needed to do with a clear head. So you didn't save his life. Big deal. You made a difference. That's what counts."

Catherine nodded, but said nothing. The Commander's praise gave her a solid point to ground herself on. Knowing that the little things she did aboard the ship weren't just noticed, they were also appreciated, made her feel significant and useful. Like she hadn't been kept aboard simply because she'd been there when the shit hit the fan.

"You look tired, Hogan," Shepard said softly.

"Not tired, just... feeling a little beaten down. This whole place seems kinda fake."

"Is this your first time in an artificial environment?"

"No, but I meant more than just the environment." Catherine frowned. "It's the people too. It's like a masquerade where everyone is wearing happy faces."

The elevator opened at their docking bay and Catherine half expected Shepard to walk away, but she kept stride with Catherine and continued their conversation.

"It didn't used to be like this," she said. "The first time I was here, back when Eden Prime was hit, it was a peaceful place. Even the wards didn't seem so bad. Every city's got its underbelly, but on the Citadel, even the underbelly comes with a view."

They reached the boarding hatch and Shepard stopped, leaning on the railing to gaze out at the expansive view lit by the eternal fires of the churning nebula.

"If you were out there on the wards and had grown up knowing the strength and might of the Council species would you be any different?"

"I like to think I would be," Catherine said, joining the Commander at the railing. "I hope that I would be better."

"Being what they are doesn't make them worse," Shepard chided gently. "They just don't understand. What digs at me is knowing that innocence is going to be broken. Their faith in their leaders and heroes is going to shaken, maybe even to bits. The only way we can keep that from happening is to be as strong as we can be. Let them see that we still have faith in each other and in them. A little bit of devotion can go a long way."

Catherine stared at the Commander, her face in profile against the backdrop of the ward arms, and the vista seemed overshadowed by her.

"Commander, I'm glad I was able to help Major Alenko," she said, her voice filled with pride, not in herself, but for this paragon of human virtue and integrity.

Shepard stood and offered Catherine a warm smile. "Now you're getting the idea, Hogan."

She left Catherine standing at the railing and disappeared through the docking hatch. Catherine stood for a long time staring out at the slowly rotating horizon, pondering what the Commander had said. After hearing what Shepard said, could she really be angry at these people for their lack of fear and urgency?

Everything the Commander had said rang true and resonated within Catherine's mind, but at the same time she had to wonder what would happen if the people rose up and demanded that action be taken. Was the apparent somnolence of the Council driven by the lack of concern in their people, or were they the ones propagating the tranquil mood of the station? Were they more interested in maintain peace where they could than in returning calm to the chaos beyond their direct line of sight?

Damning herself for not taking the Commander's words fully into her heart and accepting them in the spirit that they were given, Catherine boarded the ship in a darker mood than when she had left.

She'd always had a tendency to over analyze things, but never to take so pessimistic, even fatalistic a view. But then, never had she been faced with a trial such as this. The deaths of millions weighed heavily on her and she could only imagine how those fatalities must crush down on Shepard's soul.

Shepard had been warning the galaxy for years, and for years she'd been fighting with every fiber of her being to stop this war from happening. And hundreds of thousands of those deaths were on her head alone.

She'd destroyed an entire system just to slow the Reapers down. The Reapers would have taken the system and likely killed or enslaved all of its batarian inhabitants anyway, but it had still be Shepard who had killed them. And they didn't even know yet if that action had saved anyone else in the galaxy.

The Reapers were here anyway and the were ravaging Earth and Palaven, and word had it they had reached Tuchanka now as well.

How did Shepard live with the knowledge of what she had done? How did she sleep at night with the voices of a millions souls crying out in her mind? Did she sleep?

There had been rumors through the ship that she suffered nightmares and had since near single handedly repelled the batarian attack on Elysium years before. Catherine knew that people who had lived through that horror didn't come out unscathed, but somehow Shepard was stronger for it, even if she was plagued by nightmares.

Catherine lay in her bunk wishing she had even a fraction of Shepard's courage, praying for sleep to come to her, but to no avail. She couldn't take her mind off buoyant, jovial aura of the Citadel.

It made her furious that she was lying here suffering, that Shepard was enduring the agony she surely was, while people on the station played, partied and generally continued with their lives.

In the quiet dimness of the crew quarters, empty but for herself and two others lying silently in their own bunks, Catherine found herself wishing she could step out of it all. Just take a break from life for a while. Life was the biggest job of all and yet there were no recesses or vacations from it. There was no magical pause button she could hit and make it all stop for even a little while so she could catch her breath.

She was suffocating on her own existence. Tied down and abused by vicious tendrils of oily dark thoughts that oozed their way into every corner she sought solace in. Her heart alternated between frenetic staccato fluttering that made her want to reach into her own chest and tear it out, and a deep, slow monotonous pulse that barely seemed life sustaining.

Completely unable to find steadiness, dragged down into an abyss of melancholy, Catherine lay in her bunk for hours, unmoving and exhausted, until finally a fitful half sleep took her and she found the pause button, if only for a few hours.


	6. Chapter 6 Purgatory

"Joker, I'm confused." Catherine leaned across the table and lay her head on an outstretched arm. Her head was muzzy and dull from lack of sleep.

"Is it because you cut off all your hair? Was it the source of all your power."

Catherine snorted. Leave it to Joker to lighten the mood with annoying ease.

"No, I'm confused because we rushed to Palaven to get the Primarch and now we're just sitting around here at the Citadel. Why?"

"You hadn't heard?" Joker asked.

"Obviously not, Joker." Gregory Adams didn't look up from his data pad. "We're waiting on word from the krogan."

"The krogan?" Catherine sat up and stared at the engineer. "Since when do the krogan have any kind of government?"

"You know how Shepard works," Joker said. "She runs around the galaxy convincing everyone to kiss and make up. After a few months with her and Wrex started pulling all the krogan clans in together. Shepard's trying to get him to come to the summit."

Samantha threw down her own datapad and rubbed her face vigorously. "And then there's the fact that Shepard's to do list is filling up fast. Hackett wants her to take out a Cerberus lab out on Sunctum, and there have been whispers of Prothean dig site on Eden Prime uncovering some ancient artifact. And then of course there is Grissom Academy in need of evacuation. Never mind all the little things Shepard keeps adding to the list. The volus lost a Prothean obelisk in the Shrike Abyssal. The turians are looking for some banner. Every little thing that will help the war effort goes on the list."

"So, why aren't we out doing these things?" Catherine asked.

"Because there's a list just as long of things to be done here on the Citadel," Samantha groaned. "I love that I am here and doing what I'm doing, but my goodness it's a challenge trying to keep everything organized and prioritized."

"Guess that means we'd better make the most of our downtime," Catherine said with a yawn.

"You got that right," Joker said excitedly. "I'm going to take EDI out for another tour. You should come with us."

"Thanks, Joker, but I don't want to be a third wheel." She lay her cheek down on the table and let her arms dangle at her sides.

"You would not be a third wheel, Catherine," EDI's voice said from above. "I would welcome your company. You will provide a perspective that differs from Jeff's."

Catherine wanted to say no, but EDI was so earnest and eager it was impossible to turn her down.

"Okay, I'll come," Catherine agreed. "But I'm not going to any strip joints."

"Aw, c'mon, Cat," Joker teased. "It'll be fun. EDI's never seen an asari dancer."

"No." Catherine stood and stretched. "When are you leaving?"

"In a bit," Joker said, opening up his omnitool to check the time. "Shepard told me to wait here for a bit. Apparently she's sending a surprise back."

"And here it is."

Catherine looked up to see a fit, red haired man approaching followed by a tall woman with shoulder length dark hair. The man's Scottish accent was strong and Catherine fell in love with in immediately.

"Holy shit!" Joker shouted and all but leapt out of his chair to hop limp towards the newcomers. He embraced both of them and slaps on the back were exchanged all round. "Guys, this is Ken Donnelly and Gabby Daniels. They served on the Normandy when we were taking out the Collectors."

Joker made introductions and when he got to Catherine she went around the table and held her hand out first to Gabby and then to Kenneth. They each greeted her warmly and gave her hand a good firm shake.

"It's good to be back," Gabby said. "I felt so useless sitting around that holding facility."

"I am exceedingly pleased to have you back," EDI's voice said. "Both of you."

"Good to see you too, EDI," Kenneth said giving the ceiling a big grin knowing that EDI had a camera above the table. Catherine wondered if he knew about her new body yet.

"Heard the trip to Palaven was rough," Ken said. "I've got ta ask. Why didn't you just jump in?"

"Adams said we couldn't," Joker said. "Something about the drive emissions being to strong to mask."

"We can fix that," Gabby said cheerfully. "We had that issue during test flights before the Commander took over. The Alliance must have undid our work by accident during the retrofit. It takes some time but it can be done."

"How come I never knew about this?" Joker asked indignantly. "How come EDI didn't know?"

"Relax, Joker," Kenneth said. "This was before you got recruited and before EDI was installed. She's still your baby."

"This is going to save so much time," Samantha said. "Suddenly that do to list looks a lot more doable."

Samantha gathered up her datapad and headed for the CIC to throw herself back into her work, Adams followed Gabby and Ken to engineering, and that left Joker and Cat alone in the mess hall.

The silence in the room was pregnant with something unspoken and Catherine knew Joker was about to speak his mind. She guessed what it would be about and so preempted him.

"Let's get going, Jeff."

She walked away before he could say anything and he followed behind her. They collected EDI from the bridge and made their way onto the station. Joker was ebullient and highly amused that he'd been able to convince the station guard that EDI was his personal assistance mech.

Their destination was an area called Meridian Place. They made their way slowly, browsing through shops and stopping to take in the sights. Catherine didn't really want to be there and Joker could sense the fact. He and EDI both tried to draw her out of her shell, but it did little good.

EDI had dragged Catherine into a clothing store while Joker browsed through a comic book store nearby. The AI was fascinated by fashion, something Catherine knew little about. She generally just wore what was comfortable and if it looked good too she considered herself lucky.

EDI had other ideas and was using Catherine as a living doll since he store clerk refused to allow her to try on the clothing. Catherine was in the fitting room trying on the ninth outfit EDI had selected.

It was a tight fitting dark red dress that laced up back and front from the knee to the neck with what could only be called fishing wire. The clear wire was all but invisible and made the dress appear to be held in place by magic. The neck line was high but the absence of cover at the front meant that didn't matter. Her crotch and backside were covered only by the barest flaps of black fabric and her arms were sheathed in a fine mesh that clung tightly but concealed nothing. The outfit was completed by knee high leather boots with blocky heels that added three inches to Catherine's height.

It was the skimpiest thing Catherine had ever worn and she was reluctant to leave the fitting room.

"EDI, I'm never going to wear this anywhere," she complained. "Do you really have to see it?"

"I cannot force you, Catherine," EDI said. "But I would very much like to see if my sense regarding flattering styles for you has been correct."

So far EDI's taste had been impeccable. Each of the eight other ensembles had been becoming and well fitted, however, had been becoming increasingly less elegant and tasteful as they went.

Catherine had to admit she was enjoying the time spent with EDI. The AI had an innocence about her that was a stark contrast to her incredible intelligence. Her interest in fashion amused Catherine.

Tugging at the hem of the dress, hoping it would go at least another inch lower, Catherine cracked the fitting room door and stepped out.

"EDI, I look like a hooker."

"You look very attractive, Catherine," EDI said, eyeing Catherine up and down critically. "Your features are accentuated well by the lines and revealing nature of this dress. I believe you should purchase this outfit."

"Geez, you should get a job here. You've already convinced me to buy everything else. I don't have room for it all. Shepard might kick me and all my crap off the Normandy if she finds out about it."

Catherine studied herself in the mirror. The dress did indeed make certain features stand out. Her chest, which was ample enough to begin with, was lifted high and held firmly in place by the tight fabric. Her legs appeared longer and thinner, while her figure looked more lithe and sleek than it ever had before.

"I believe the word Jeff would use is 'hot'," EDI commented. "Though I'm not sure I understand how temperature is relative to attractiveness."

"It's just one of those things we say," Catherine told her. "So you really think I should buy this? Where would I even wear it?"

"There has been some talk of a club called Purgatory near the Ward levels," EDI said. "Many of the crew have been frequenting the place and have been given access to the VIP section. Perhaps Lieutenant Vega would like to see your new style."

Catherine balked at the idea of actually wear the outfit in public, let alone wearing it to impress someone. There was enough attraction between her and James without her showing up in this getup, and she wasn't even sure she wanted their relationship to continue.

Her mind had wandered in lonely directions as she searched for sleep the night before. She felt guilty for having sex with James, regardless of the fact that he was very much an adult and could make his own decisions.

The idea of forming relationships with anyone in a time like this, when the entire galaxy was at war and they could die any minute, seemed unfair to everyone involved. She was scared of the affection she felt for him. Scared that it might turn into something more. She didn't think she could allow herself to fall in love knowing that the object of her devotion could be cruelly torn away from her without warning.

"I don't know if this is such a good idea, EDI," Catherine said, wrapping her arms around herself protectively.

EDI looked uncomfortable for a moment and then stepped closer and spoke more softly.

"I realize that I have little experience in these matters and my opinion may not be of value, but it is my thought that you should not limit yourself or hold back your affections for anyone at a time like this. I understand that regret can be a difficult thing to live with."

Catherine stared at the AI, unsure how to respond to her advise. Any other time Catherine would have whole heartedly agreed with her, even given the same advise in her place.

"So you think I should go with what I told James and just go with the flow?"

"Yes."

EDI's very simple response was hard to argue with.

"Okay fine," Catherine said. "Pick me out a jacket at least."

"The outfit does not require more," EDI said. "Besides, from what I understand of clubs, the temperature is kept high to encourage patrons to wear less and drink more."

Catherine twisted her arm around her back to pull forward the little plastic price tag.

"Holy shit, EDI! This dress is nearly eight hundred credits."

"Perhaps you could put back some of the other items."

Catherine looked at the pile of clothing draped over the back of the cushy chair and sighed.

"You know what they say."

"If you've got it, flaunt it?" EDI said, tilting her head to one side.

Catherine laughed. "I was going to say 'you can't take it with you', but that works too."

"Can't take what with you?" EDI looked confused.

"The money," Catherine said.

"Ah, I see," EDI said. "Can't take it where?"

"When you die," Catherine said slowly, not really believing that she was having to explain the saying. "I'm just trying to justify spending nearly two thousand credits."

"I believe the reactions you will get inside Purgatory will be justification enough."

Joker chose that moment to come looking for them. The fitting rooms were at the back of the store and not divided by gender or species so he strode right in not looking up from the datapad he carried.

"So I nearly just got in a fist fight with a pint sized turian who says the Reapers aren't real. I didn't really want to break my fist punching him in the face so I had to walk away and now he thinks I'm scared of him... and my day just got a whole lot better."

He saw Catherine in her slinky outfit and stopped dead in his tracks.

"I selected her clothing, Jeff," EDI said proudly. "Do you approve?"

"Um, yeah!" Joker said emphatically. "I think we've just found a new uniform for female officers."

Catherine let her shoulders dropped and rolled her eyes.

"Okay, I'm not wearing this."

"Relax, Cat," Joker said. "You look great. And besides, that's a clubbing outfit. Not as if you'll be wearing it for foreign dignitaries or anything. Well, if you wore it for the asari councilor she might change he mind about coming to this summit. I've heard she has a things for human women."

"The asari aren't coming?" Catherine almost shouted.

"Man, if there is a loop to be in you stay as far away from it as you can, don't you."

As usual, EDI stepped in to explain. "The asari believe the summit is doomed to failure. The krogan, turian and salarians have a rather tumultuous history."

"Guess the rest of the galaxy doesn't subscribe to the age old adage of let bygones be bygones."

Catherine had been enjoying herself, had felt her mood and outlook improving, but now the rage she fought back several times was edging its way back to the surface. It didn't feel any better than the despair she'd suffered the night before, but it also didn't make her feel weak and useless.

Suddenly the idea of clubbing didn't seem quite so terrible. Maybe being out, having drinks and loosing herself in the music would help. On Earth, Morgan has always been trying to get her out partying. It had never been her thing though.

Now she wanted to be aggressive. She wanted to abuse her body. Maybe if her body was hurting her heart and her mind wouldn't. It seemed like a better solution than continuing to sleep with James. Emotional complication was not what she needed. Nor what he needed, she was sure.

"Purgatory it is," she told EDI with a decisive nod. "Morgan will be happy. She loved clubs."

"If you'd like," EDI said with a sidelong glance at Joker where he leaned in the doorway. "I will carry your new purchases back to the ship."

Catherine knew that EDI was in a roundabout way saying she wanted to go back to the Normandy. She was concerned for Joker. His medical condition meant that long periods of time on his feet could cause stress fractures.

"Yeah, EDI. That'd be great. Thanks."

They went to the sales kiosk and Catherine paid while an overly ass kissing clerk folded it all and packed it away in plastic bags that could be vacuum sealed to take up less space.

Catherine commed Morgan and was happy to find her friend was nearby. She'd been out all day trying to find a part she needed to repair her station on the Normandy.

With Alliance supply lines what they were it was becoming increasingly difficult to get parts. Everyone was going above and beyond to keep things running smoothly.

Morgan agreed to meet her at the shop and Joker and EDI took their leave. The sales woman, no doubt hoping Catherine would spend more money, was exceedingly gracious and let her relax on a couch near the front of the store while she waited.

Having been completely unable to find what she needed, Morgan arrived half an hour later and was instantly highly jealous of Catherine's new clothes. They spent another half hour choosing a similar, though slightly less slutty outfit for Morgan and were then on their way to Purgatory.

Morgan changed in the bathroom at the main entrance to the club and then rented a locker to stow her uniform. She was practically bouncing off the walls as they got in line for the VIP section on the floor above. Catherine guessed there were at least fifty people in the line ahead of them and said if they had to wait longer than an hour she was giving up.

But they didn't have long to wait. A turians was making his way along the line, speaking to people seemingly at random. He paused in front of Catherine, eyed her up and down and then asked if she had a pass.

The two women held up the plastic cards they'd been given and he scanned them with his omnitool.

"Where'd you get these?" he asked.

"Not really sure," Catherine said. "They were sent to our ship."

"What ship is that?" he asked.

"The SSV Normandy. It's an Alliance ship," Catherine told him. "Is there a problem?"

"Not at all," he said, giving her a somewhat disgusting ogle. "Just curious is all. Drinks are on the house. Courtesy of Aria T'Loak. Direct access to the VIP lounge is up one floor. The door will activate automatically. Enjoy yourselves."

He moved on before they could thank him. The elevator carried them away from the busy floor and opened to a spacious open air level where small groups of people stood chatting, swaying in time to the muffled beat of a music, or just leaning on the railings looking out at the long central lake of the Persidium.

There was no line at the door which said only 'VIP' above it in pink holographic letters. As they walked across the plaza Catherine asked, "Aria T'Loak runs Omega, right?"

"I think so," Morgan said. "I've heard the name a lot and never associated with anything good."

"Except for providing us with free drinks," Catherine pointed out. "We're on leave for another twenty-four right?"

"You planning to get shit faced?"

"I might."

"Shit, you sound angry," Morgan said. "What's with you lately?"

"That a serious question?" Catherine asked.

"I think so, yeah," Morgan said with a laugh that exhibited no real humour. "You were pretty steady at first. Consoling me and Sam and everyone else. Now you seem like you're going down some black hole."

"I just..." Catherine didn't know how to explain it to her friend without going into a lot of detail meant for a quiet talk over coffee, not screamed over the churning sea of a club. "I just need a distraction, Morgan. Don't worry about me."

"If you say so."

The first set of doors slid open as they approached letting them into a small atrium with two more doors, one straight ahead and another off the their left. There were no signs telling them what was where. It was assumed that if you were in the VIP section you knew your way around.

Luckily at that moment several incredibly drunk asari came tumbling through the door ahead of them and they were buffeted by the pounding of the music beyond.

"I guess this is it," Catherine said. "Shall we?"

The VIP level was laid out on three tiers with stairs leading to each. The first seemed to simply be the entrance where there were several banking terminals and a comm kiosk.

The second level extended of to the left and right. Catherine and Morgan paused at the top of the first flight and looked around. Above them on the third level was the dance floor which looked crowded. To their right was a private seating area where a lone asari sat with several guards on watch.

To their left were more private seating areas and at the far end the main bar where they could see several other crew members and Alliance marines from other vessels.

Higher up were several more levels, all of them packed with people. There was a walkway above them and Catherine guessed that is what the other door lead to.

"This place is huge!" Morgan shouted in Catherine's ear. "I've never seen a club like this."

Catherine could already feel the pulse of the music infecting her. Her heart raced in time with the beat and a skein of sweat had slicked her exposed spine right down to her lower back.

"Let's get a drink," she called and strode off toward the main bar, letting her hips sway the way they only could in three inch heels.

The bar was crowded with people calling for drinks, but much to Morgan's amusement Catherine bust quickly drew the attention of the bartender and they had drinks in hand in a matter of moments. They stood at the top of a small set of stairs leading down into a semi private seating area and looked up at the tier above. Beside the dance floor was a set of four stages on lifts. They moved slowly up and down while the human and asari dancers atop executed acrobatic and downright pornographic moves.

Despite the skill of the dancers, few people were watching them. The atmosphere was highly charged with pheromones flying in every direction and Catherine could practically see the sexual tension dripping down the walls.

Morgan was eager to hit the dance floor, but Catherine felt she needed a little more alcohol in her blood before she could brave the press and swell of bodies. She told Morgan to go without her and leaned against the wall to watch the flashing lights and shadows above.

She was lost in thought and beginning to feel the pleasant tingle of numbness in her extremities when a hand went around her waist and deep voice sounded in her ear.

"You clean up nice, Catnip."

Catherine turned to see James standing over her. Even with the heels she still had to look up at him. She turned and his hands went to her hips and he moved a little closer, swaying his hips with to the beat of this music.

"Where did you get that smoking' dress?"

"EDI picked it out for me."

"Remind me to thank her." He grinned and ran his finger down the middle of her chest. "What's holding this thing on anyway?"

"Not much," Catherine replied, taking his hands in hers and putting it back at her waist.

"What's wrong?" he questioned, his brow wrinkling in a frown.

"Just don't want to lead you on," Catherine said, not meeting his eye.

"I've got no expectations, Catnip," he said softly. His voice was so deep that she could feel it more than hear it over the music. "You wanna take the lead, I'll follow whatever the direction."

She met his eye, studying the hazel depths of them for any insincerity. His gaze was earnest and she found herself trusting him, able to take him at his word. In response she ran her hand up his chest to his neck and pulled his head down to hers.

She kissed his throat, letting her tongue slip out just a little as she did, and left a small wet mark on his skin.

"I like that direction," he said and took a step toward the bar, pulling her along with him. "What are you drinking, bonita?"

"Cranberry martini," Catherine said.

James laughed. "Let's order you a real drink!"

"What do you suggest, Mr. Vega?"

James leaned on the bar. A space had cleared for him in seconds. There were benefits to being the biggest guy in the place. He looked her up and down, just as Joker and the turian bouncer had.

"For you? A neck snap. Cause that's what's going to happen to all the heads you turn walking through this place."

Catherine blushed and he gave her a sideways grin as the colour flooded her cheeks. He turned and waved to the bartender, flashing Aria's card to get the salarian's attention.

"Get me a neck snap and four hits of tequila, amigo."

The salarians nodded, picked up four shot glasses in one hand and lined them up on the bar. He skillfully filled them and then slid a bowl of lime slices and a shaker of salt at them before turning to mix Catherine's drink.

"Those aren't all for you, are they?" Catherine eyed the golden brown liquid on the counter.

"Nope." He grabbed her hand and licked the back of it wetly. He shook a dash of salt onto the smear and handed her a glass. "Two are for you."

She waved away the glass, but he gave her such a puppy dog look of disappointment that she couldn't resist.

"Fine, but if I throw up like I did the last time I drank this stuff, you get to clean it up."

"If you upchucked you weren't doin' it right." He gave her a lime slice and salted his own hand. "Down the hatch on three, baby!"

He counted to three and Catherine shut her eyes, licked the salt off her hand, threw back the shot and stuffed the lime wedge in her mouth.

The taste was awful. She'd never been a fan of anything other than sweet and this was a horrid combination of salty, sour and sharp all at once. She coughed and opened her stinging, watering eyes.

James slapped her on the back and licked her again, shoving the vile components into her hands.

"Before you lose your nerve!" He shouted, counted to three again and they downed the second shots together.

The second shot went down easier but still tasted like ass to Catherine and she shook her head violently and gave a shrill little scream through the lime between her teeth.

James bellowed with laughter and several people around the bar cheered her on. High on the fun of it Catherine called for two more shots and when they came she licked James' hand running her tongue into the crevice at the base of his middle and index fingers.

They licked the salt off each other's hands and down the third shots, and then forgetting about the drink James had ordered, she dragged him by the belt to the dance floor.

Morgan was already dancing with a group of Alliance soldiers and Catherine gave her an enormous and drunken grin as she joined her in the crowd with James behind her.

Arms in the air she turned to face him and straddled one slightly bent leg. The music invaded her mind and she gyrated with the throbbing beat of it, grinding herself against James and savouring the crush of bodies around her driving her ever closer to him.

The alcohol burned through her and the violent rhythms fueled her. Morgan found her way to her side and they danced together, Catherine's eyes locked with James' the entire time. Morgan was just as drunk as Catherine and they danced in ways that sober girls never do, running their hand along each other's bodies, twinning their arms and legs together in seductive poses.

A marine Morgan had been eyeing all night brought her another drink and lured her away to a dark corner where Catherine could see the drink being ignore and Morgan getting all the attention.

James' hands were on her again, pulling her backwards against his chest, his hands running up and down her front, hidden from view by the bodies around them. She reached an arm up above her head and wrapped it around his neck, leaning back into him.

It was impossible to miss the hardness of his cock pressing into the small of her back. She slid her hand between them and rubbed at it and felt the rumble of pleasure in his chest.

He leaned down, his lips touching her ear as he said, "You want get outta here?"

"Most definitely," she cried back and spun in his arms.

With her hand locked behind his neck he lifted her up in front of him and she put her legs around his waist, her dress rolling up nearly to her thighs as she did.

"I've got just the place."

He carried her effortlessly down the stairs and back to the entrance. Instead of leaving the club he went through the other door which lead into an elevator that brought them to the next level up in the club.

He set her down and told the bouncer he wanted a private room, flashing Aria's card again. While they waited for the bouncer to find space for them James pushed her up against the wall through a holographic art installation.

As he kissed her and his hands gripped her everywhere, she closed her eyes and let the scintillating colours of the art twist and puddle through her eyelids. In the relative quiet of the hallway she could hear James breathing, hard and raspy as he bruised her lips with the force of his kiss. Even the spicy scent of him was intoxicating. It was a sensory overload.

When the bouncer came back and shouted to get their attention she wilted against the wall, James' solid arms holding her in place, and tried to catch her breath.

"Aria says she's not paying for a room unless she knows for who and why," the man said.

James started to deliver his rank and title, but the man cut him off.

"Not you. Aria wants to talk to her. You wait here. I'll escort her down."

James grabbed the man by the collar. "No way I'm letting Aria talk to her alone."

"Easy there, big guy," the man said, unphased by James' aggression. "Aria just wants to talk. If she wanted more than that she'd take it."

"Relax, James." Catherine shoved off the wall and stood beside the bouncer. "I'm sure I'll be right back."

James eased the man back down to the ground. "Ten minutes and I come looking for you."

Catherine winked and blew him a kiss, following the bouncer back into the elevator and descended to meet with Aria T'Loak, Pirate Queen of Omega.


	7. Chapter 7 A Private Room

_******WARNING**** Once again we have here a chapter that is intended for mature readers. Use your own discretion when reading and if you are offended... close the page. Otherwise, enjoy;)**_

Catherine's mind was reeling with a heady combination of alcohol, adrenaline and desire. She was barely aware of being lead by the elbow to the second level of the VIP section and into the private area she had noticed earlier.

When the bouncer let go of her and backed away she was left standing in front of a ferocious looking asari in a tight black body suit and a short white jacket. Tattoos curved and knifed across her face, bisecting her lower lip and continuing down to her chin. Twin lines arched between her brows to the inside corners of her eyes, flaring out again to flow over her brows and down the sides of her face.

"Sit down, human, before you fall down," Aria said, nodding to the seat beside her.

She was far too drunk to feel the least bit intimidated by the asari. Her body slouched into the couch and she turned to look up at the imperious woman beside her. To her surprise Aria was smiling at her.

It was not a friendly smile, but it was also not a cruel or angry smile. More an expression of amusement.

"I took you away from your fun, didn't I," Aria said. "I can smell the musk on you."

"I think that's the general perfume of this place," Catherine murmured.

Aria laughed softly. "If you think this place is... musky, you should have smelled Afterlife."

"What's Afterlife?" Catherine closed her eyes and began bobbing her head in time with the furiously paced beat of the music.

"Get this girl another drink," Aria demanded of one of her guards. "Whatever she was drinking before."

"One neck snap coming up." The guard trotted up the stairs and was gone.

"I'd really rather not stay," Catherine said with slurred words.

"My my. Aren't we cheeky." Aria tsked at her. "Shepard must recruit you for your insubordination."

Catherine snorted. "You're not the boss of me."

Aria's laughed echoed through the club and several people above turned to look down at her with looks of shock on their faces.

"No, I suppose I'm not. I did give you access to this club, however."

"Yeah, thanks for that," Catherine said cheerfully. "This place is the shit."

"You are very drunk, aren't you?"

Catherine nodded slowly, giggling at the buoyant feeling in her head. Deep down there was a voice screaming at her to get to her feet and stand to attention before this powerful alien, but something closer to the surface, a more primal instinct, told her that Aria was enjoying their chat.

"I don't drink a lot. I'm a lightweight."

Just then the guard returned with her neck snap and Catherine took it, but only because she felt like her skin was on fire and she knew the drink would be beautifully cold.

"I'll make you a deal, human," Arai said slyly. "You stay here for as long as it takes you to finish that drink. While you're here we'll... talk. You'll decide how long we chat for."

Catherine looked at the tall glass and was sure it was double the size of the one James had ordered for her earlier. The green liquid swirled in the glass like oils emulsifying and every part of her told her not to drink it, but she brought the straw to her lips anyway and took a long swallow.

"James was right," she said with a satisfied sigh. "This is good."

"James Vega," Aria said carefully. "That's who you're with."

"Well, I'm not 'with' him." She tried to quote around the word but only managed to spill some of her drink down her arm.

She licked at it, running her tongue up the inside of her arm to her wrist and then across the palm of her hand. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Aria watching her with a dark intensity.

"We're both on the Normandy. I slept with him and was about to again before you cock blocked us."

"You could do so much better than that muscle head," Aria said quietly, her voice improbably audible above the din. "Ever consider aliens?"

"I kissed a drell," Catherine said. "He was really hot. Really different from humans, but they've got all the right things in all the right places."

"And asari?" Aria asked. She was still as a statue beside Catherine, her arms spread out on the back of the couch, he legs crossed in front of her.

"Never been into girls." Catherine took another long swig of her drink, swallowing it down quickly as images of James' naked body flashed before her eyes.

Moaning she leaned her head back and shuffled at bit on the couch, trying to relieve the burning racing along her skin.

"Why are you with him?"

"Like I said, we're not together."

"Don't try my patience, girl. You know what I mean." Aria's tone didn't change, but it was clear she would not be so friendly next time she asked the question.

"Because he's hot, he's available, and I can't sleep at night," Catherine said, he jolly mood fading.

"As I thought," Aria said knowingly.

Catherine forced herself to sit up. Her dress was rolled up nearly to her thighs and had anyone been sitting across from her they would have been able to see right up to her lacy black underwear.

"Why are you asking about James?"

"Because your boy toy was on Omega not that long ago," Aria said, gazing out at the far wall where lights flashed and flickered in time with the music. When she looked back her eyes were dark and Catherine felt drawn to her as if an invisible string were tugging her closer.

Desire roared up through Catherine. Her skin steamed and she salivated with need.

"I was curious about him. Consider this your payment for the private room. I'll be sure to send a cleaning crew in when you leave."

She turned away and Catherine saw it for the dismissal it was. Her drink wasn't yet half finished but she set it down on the table nearby and stumbled up the stairs and away from the terrifying asari.

At the top of the stairs she stopped, realizing just how far down the drop was on either side if she tripped. And then a hand was on her elbow and an asari in commando gear was leading her back to the elevator.

The music drilled into her head and the quiet in the elevator was a soothing balm, making the hallway on the floor above seem like a riotous jungle by comparison. Halfway down the hall the asari stopped and pulled aside a thick curtain, revealing James sitting in a small booth surrounded by windows.

The u shaped booth was small but opulent. The padded seats were deep and Catherine's knees sank into them as she crawled her way towards James at the back of booth.

The curtain closed behind them, all but blocking out the incessant beat of the music. When she reached James she swung her leg over his and sank down onto his lap. The window behind gave them a view of the whole of the club, from the highest level where the drinks were most expensive, to the great expanse of the lower level where the music was brutal and the patrons usually ended up on the floor one way or another.

"You been drinking more?" James asked as he ran his hands up her sides and tipped his face forward into her chest.

"Mhmm," Catherine moaned. "I think Aria likes me."

"I'll say," James said, impressed. "This has got to be the nicest booth in the place. Do I want to know what you did for her?"

Catherine leaned as far back as she could and came back with the bottle of cinnamon spiced rum from the other side of the table. She unscrewed the top and poured some into her mouth and then clamped her lips down on his.

The rum spilled out of her mouth and into his as they kissed, running down his chin and onto his shirt. She cleaned away the overspill, pulling her tongue up along his neck, over his chin and back to his lips, rolling her hips against his the entire time.

"She just wanted to talk," Catherine whispered into his ear, her tongue following her words.

James grabbed her and latched his mouth onto her shoulder, kissing his way up until he reach her jaw line. He bit and nipped at her and she gasped at the sharp, brief stabs of pain followed by the warm caress of his fingers.

"What did you tell her?" James asked between bites.

"Let's just say she knows we're not using this booth for casual conversation."

James laughed and tipped his head back to look up at her. "The dirty old girl just wanted details?"

"Who knows, who cares." Catherine reached for the bottle of rum again but James took it away from her.

"I think you've had enough. I'll have some if you don't mind."

He tilted the bottle over his mouth and let it waterfall down. It splashed and overflowed, pouring down his chest and staining his t-shirt.

Catherine lifted herself up and sat on the table in front of him, her feet on the bench to either side of him. She swayed to the distant pulse of the music. It was slower than it had been in the club, a more sensual and low key tempo with an almost Spanish sound to it.

The bottle clunked down on the table beside her and James ran his hands up the insides of her legs, stopping just short of her underwear. She reached out and ran her fingers through the crest of his fauxhawk, mussing it up, and pulled his head forward at the same time.

"How do I get you out of this dress?" he asked against the bare skin of her stomach.

"Keep going like that and it won't be difficult."

"No, really, how do I get this thing off you?" James pushed the skirt of the dress higher up until it was balled at her hips.

"We've got all night, Jimmy," Catherine said, sliding her hips closer to his face. "One piece at a time."

She's been hoping he would tear her underway and work his way up from there. Instead he lift her legs and rested her ankles on his shoulders and started to slowly unlace her boots. For every inch of skin he revealed he put his mouth to the soft, sensitive skin on the inside of her thigh and bit down, running his tongue along the dents his teeth left.

When her boots were finally gone he turned his attention to her feet. Catherine lay back on the table, her dress now rolled up to her waist, while James suckled on each of her toes in turn, the coarse hair of his chin tickling at her arches.

At last he stood and she was sure he was about the pull her underwear away, but instead he lifted her up and shoved her dress even higher, uncovering her breasts. Her already hard nipples tightened further as the cool air brushed over them.

The bottle of rum reappeared and James poured into her belly button, slurping it away and licking the hollow clean while Catherine writhed beneath him.

"Take your shirt off," she begged of him. "I want to feel that glorious chest of yours."

The shirt was gone before she could blink twice and his pants and boots soon followed, leaving him in only his tight fitting boxer shorts. Catherine raised one foot and put it against his chest, pushing him back so she could sit up.

She pulled the dress until it was finally over her head and then flung it away to the other side of the booth. Hooking her toe inside the waist of his underwear she pulled it down, revealing his sex in all its glory.

She moved her hands up the expansive plane of his broad chest, running her fingers over the triple slashes tattooed on his pecs.

"I'm hungry," she said and rolled to the side and reached for a bowl of fruit on the far side of the table.

It was a mix of Earth fruits, strawberries, mango slices and grapes. She plucked a strawberry from the bowl and held it to James' mouth. His eyes locked with her he bit at it, most of it gone right away.

He kissed her and the taste of strawberry flowed into her mouth. They played with the fruit, painting their bodies with it and licking away the trails of sweetness. Soaking slippery pieces of mango in the spicy rum and letting it slide from one mouth to the next before it was swallowed.

Finally, James grabbed at her underwear and completely ripped them away, tearing it in half in his need get at what was underneath. He pushed her back down on the table and found a strawberry at the bottom of the bowl. He popped it whole into his mouth and then pulled it out again, spitting the leaves out.

"You ready?" he asked.

"Ready for what?" she asked, looking up at him from her prone position on the table top.

"For this."

He leaned over her and kissed her deeply. His hand went between her legs and something pressed into her. Realizing it was the strawberry she reach up and gripped at his arms, gasping into his mouth and almost climaxing that very moment.

His mouth left hers and found its way down her torso until his tongue delved in after the strawberry which was within reach of his dexterous mouth. Working with delicious intensity he drew the strawberry out and took a bite from it. Catherine felt his teeth scrape along her tender flesh and the cool juice of the berry trickle down.

Licking away the sticky fluid, he ate the rest of the strawberry and pulled her up to him. He shoved the table to the side and lay her down on the wide bench. Shivering with ecstasy she reached up and took him by the shoulders, pulling him down to her.

There was barely enough room on the bench for him to lower himself down on top of her. The weight of him pushed her into the leather cushion and she had to twist one leg up and around his back so that there was room for him.

The music pounded in her head and the heat of the enclosed space caused a sweat that coated both their bodies in a salty slick. Catherine cried out as he drove himself into her with much more ferocity than the first time. It was just what she needed, that hard, commanding object forcing its way inside. Burning and tearing with such indescribable pleasure that she didn't realize she was screaming with each thrust.

She came with such force that James could barely move as she tightened around him. As she relaxed, her arms going limp around his neck and her eyes rolling back as her head rolled from side to side, he began to move again. More slowly this time, massaging her from within.

His slow, steady pace had her delirious with pleasure before he suddenly sped up, his whole body flexing, his feet braced against the back of the couch. Ripples of euphoria burst out and sucked her back down in the maelstrom of orgasm once again.

And then he was sagging atop her, panting with exertion and dripping sweat. Catherine's heart raced and when she put her hand on James neck she could feel his pulse thundering in his veins.

The pressure all over and inside of her body lifted suddenly as he stood and reached out a hand to her. She took it and he lifted her up and held her against his chest. Turning around he lay back down where she had been and she sprawled across him, the heat of their bodies radiating into one another.

Neither of them said anything for a long time. They basked in the radiant afterglow of earth shattering orgasms and lay still lest the feeling dissipate too quickly. James asked her if she was cold and she shook her head, saying nothing in reply except to tuck her hands behind his back and nestle her head under his chin.

Almost tentatively he brought his hands up and rested them on her back, lightly at first, as if he was afraid to touch her, and then let the weight of his arms down on her when she made no move to dislodge him.

Catherine had no idea she'd fallen asleep until there was a soft clearing of a throat beyond the curtain. She lifted her head and blinked rapidly, trying to make her eyes focus on something. The music had stopped, replaced by the murmur of voices and the tread of weary feet on the metal floors.

"The club is about the close," a voice said from beyond the curtain. "You'll need to make your way to the exits now."

"Okay," Catherine replied, her voice hoarse.

James was still asleep, his head tilted back and his breath whistling through his partially open mouth. His face was completely relaxed and he looked so much younger Catherine wondered for the first time how old he really was. The scars said he'd seen years of service, but the unlined, boyish look of his sleeping face spoke of youth.

She didn't want to wake him. He seemed so peaceful and comfortable lying there with his laced fingers holding his arms around her back and one leg off the bench. A chill had crept up Catherine's back though, and she was sore and desperately needed a shower, both to warm up and wash off.

With no idea what time it was she suddenly worried that Morgan had no idea where she was or who she was with. This spurred her to movement and she tried to sit up but James' arms were locked around her, holding her in place.

"Jimmy," she said, using the nickname on impulse, and pulled a hand out from under him to tap gently at the side of his face. "Wake up, Jimmy."

His head twitched and he drew in a sharp breath, his eyes flickering open and focusing on her. He stretched his whole body and tightened his arms around her, squeezing the breath from her.

"What time is it?" he asked with gravel in his throat.

"I have no idea, but someone was just outside the curtain saying we have to leave," she told him.

"Whoa, we've been here for hours." He sat up quickly, pushing her up to kneel on the bench in front of him.

He looked down at her legs and then reached out to push her knees apart.

"Shit, Catnip. Those are some mean bruises. Did I do that?"

She looked down at herself. Even in the dim light of the booth she could see dark purple bruises emerging between her legs. She ran a hand down over them and they were tender and swollen under her touch.

"I'm pretty sure you were the only other person here tonight, so I'm going to say that was you."

"Why did you say anything?" he asked guiltily. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"Who said it hurt?" she leaned forward and planted a kiss firmly on his lips, letting it linger for a moment before she sat back on her heels and patted him on the chest. "Help me get dressed, big boy."

James got up and gathered all their clothing, dumping it on the bench beside Catherine. While he pulled his pants back on and laced up his boots, she untangled her dress and tried to pull it over her head. It was damp with sweat and wouldn't slide down as easily as it had in the store.

Giggling and playfully instructing James they managed to get the dress back in place and looking reasonably neat. Her underwear was a lost cause and useful only as a rag, if even that. Her boots took several minutes to get laced back up to her knees and James had to crawl around on the floor searching for her VIP card which had been tucked into the top of her boot when he stripped them off.

Luckily they had put the lid back on the bottle of rum and so it had not spilled all over the floor when it had tipped off the table. The fruits however had been scattered across the opposite bench and the table, sending a cloying scent into the air to mingle with the aroma of their bodies.

With Catherine tucked safely under one arm, James pulled the curtain aside letting in a rush of cool clean air. Thankfully there was no one in the hallway and they got away from the disaster of their booth without having to endure the disapproving stares of the staff.

They were well into the night cycle of that area of the Persidium but the artificial sky still seemed painfully bright and Catherine had to shield her eyes as they walked across the plaza to the elevator.

Once inside it was a ten minute ride back to the Commons where they would have to get out and walk to another lift. The Persidium was quiet, with only a few all night restaurants and cafes open. Catherine yawned continuously and stumbled often as they walked, though the drink had worn off long before.

When they reach the last elevator she was almost asleep on her feet and she leaned heavily on James once they were still.

"I could sleep for days," she said through a jaw cracking yawn.

"Me too," James said. "Worth it though."

Catherine laughed into his chest. "That it was. Never been used a fruit bowl before."

"Heh," James chuckled. "Yeah, that was pretty hot."

There was a long pause filled only with the steady hum of the elevator rushing steadily downwards.

"So, uh, Catnip, I'm going to ask again 'cause I feel like I should," James said somewhat awkwardly. "Do we need to talk?"

Catherine sighed and put her arms around him, nuzzling into his chest. "I don't know, Jimmy. Neither of us needs any complications or distractions at the wrong time. Maybe we should just keep this simple."

"A friends with benefits kinda deal?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said softly and looked up at his kind hazel eyes. "Does that work for you?"

"That works just fine for me, Catnip," he hugged he tightly and then let go as the elevator slowed at their docking bay. "You want to go in separately?"

"No, it's okay, but we don't need to be hanging off each other either."

She gave him one last kiss and stepped off the lift into the still crowded bay. Feeling naked in her skimpy dress she rushed on ahead and entered the hatch with a sigh of relief.

Her luck continued and the bridge and CIC were empty save for two marines on patrol and they only smirked as her as she hurried by them. James was right behind her and they stepped off the elevator onto the crew deck together.

Commander Shepard was waiting to step into the elevator and stopped when she saw them. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. Mortified, Catherine put her hands over her face and inched past her commanding officer.

"It's only a walk of shame if you don't walk tall, Hogan," Shepard said with amusement as Catherine vanished into the crew quarters.

The bunks were filled with sleepers and Catherine stayed as quiet as she could while she pulled a change of clothes from her locker and retreated to the showers. Washed and feeling like she'd had the crap beaten out of her she staggered to a sleep pod and all but fell inside it.

She didn't even have time to turn on the sound system or tint the glass before she was out, drifting away into the dreamless sleep of the purely exhausted.


	8. Chapter 8 Above Sur'Kesh

With repairs made to their heat sinks, transit to the Annos Basin, and the salarian home world of Sur'kesh, took only a few hours. They made an FTL jump into the planets orbit to test how well they were masked. The salarian shuttle waiting for them had no idea they were there until Joker hailed them.

The shuttle docked with the Normandy and the salarian Dalatrass boarded followed by two guards. The ship carrying Urdnot Wrex was lingering on the outskirts of the system and jumped in when called.

There were few krogan on the Citadel and none ever came to Earth so Catherine had never seen one. Wrex docked in the shuttle bay and went straight to the war room. Catherine missed seeing him leave the elevator and hoped he would stay aboard long enough that she could at least get a look at him.

She was also dwelling on the thought that she needed to get some time alone with Morgan who was furious with her for leaving her at Purgatory without saying anything. Apparently, the fact that Catherine technically had not left the club was not a good enough excuse.

She still hadn't told Morgan about James, though her friend was sure to find out soon since EDI had obviously told Joker and he would never keep silent about it. Or maybe Joker had just guessed. It was hard to tell with EDI sometimes.

Catherine had never had a relationship like this before and she was still learning how to behave and treat James as only a friend. Her mind told her that anyone who knew her as intimately as he did should be something more.

Two hours minutes more and she would be off duty and could go smooth things over with Morgan and maybe catch a glimpse of their guests. She was sore all over and her chair, though padded, was becoming uncomfortable. As exciting as her night with James had been, she thought she might have taken the abuse of her body a little too far.

But even as she thought about the dull throb of pain between her legs, she remembered the intense pleasure that had caused it. James had been a brutal lover and she knew that even though it would take her several days to recover she would do it all again in a heartbeat.

His brand of pain and pleasure, force and askance, was like nothing else she had ever experienced. The strawberry experiment had been particularly exciting. And afterwards, the way when he had lain her down on his chest and just let her sleep had been more tender than she had expected from him.

"Catherine," EDI's voice said in her ear piece. "are you all right?"

"I'm fine, EDI." Catherine shook the images of James out of her head. "Why?"

"Your heart rate is elevated and your respiration has increased," EDI said. "I also detect your adrenaline level rising as well."

"I was, uh, just thinking about something... exciting," Catherine said with a fiery blush.

"I noticed that your stress levels were significantly reduced when you returned to the ship last night," EDI said. "I assume this means you enjoyed your time at Purgatory?"

"Yes, I certainly did," Catherine said.

"I am curious, Catherine," EDI stated. "While I fully understand that sexual intercourse is an effective method of stress release, I have been wondering why you chose Lieutenant Vega."

"EDI, did Jeff put you up to that question?"

The AI was silent for a long moment before you finally said, "Yes."

"Tell Joker to mind his own business," Catherine chastised.

"I apologize, Catherine," EDI said contritely.

"It's okay, EDI," she said with a slight smile. "If Joker really wants to know he can grow a pair and ask me himself."

"I shall inform him of this."

"EDI, I need to walk around," Catherine said, stretching, letting her back and shoulders crack. "Ai-Wei is on duty next. Tell her I'll be in Life Support if she needs to talk to me."

Catherine switched off her console and eased herself out of her chair. Her legs burned with the effort and she struggled not to limp as she made her way to the elevator. Samantha caught her eyes as she walked by and Catherine slowed to talk to her.

"So, Sam, I hear you've been getting rather chummy with the ANN reporter down in engineering. What was Shepard thinking bringing her aboard."

Samantha leaned back on her console. "She's not so bad, Cat. I know she was rather pushy at first, but that was before Shepard gave her a post. And with the stories she sends in she's making sure the rest of a galaxy doesn't forget that there's a war on."

"Yeah, I you're right," Catherine conceded. "I guess we got off on the wrong foot."

"You should talk to her sometime," Samantha said. "She's... nice."

"Do I detect a hint of a crush there, Samantha?" Catherine asked slyly.

"No, but she is very attractive. That little black and white dress leaves little to the imagination," Samantha stood up straight and grinned at Catherine. "Speaking of little back dresses, I hear you had a pretty skimpy one on last night."

"I'll model it for you later, Sam," Catherine said, being intentionally flirtatious. "Anyway, I'm going to finish my shift below. Getting restless sitting up there."

Catherine descended to the crew deck and shut herself away in life support, checking on the Co2 filters and oxygen production units. She made notes of wear and tear on the hardware and what should be replace and refurbished when they next docked.

The time passed quickly and before she knew it her shift was over. As she was serving herself in the galley when EDI announced that the shuttle was leaving the hanger. Catherine brought up LS reading on her omnitool and watched as Ai-Wei manipulated systems to bring the hanger back to normality.

The younger woman was good, but didn't have quite the same instincts that Catherine did. She worked by numbers and logic rather than by feel. It took a few minutes more, but when Ai-Wei was done Catherine was satisfied that she'd done a good job and took her sandwich to eat in the starboard observation deck.

She wanted to sit quietly for a few minutes before she went looking for Morgan, but her friend found her. She stomped into the room and put her hands on her hips and loomed over Catherine.

"Okay, so I know you want to make nice, but you scared the crap out of me last night so it's going to take more than an apology," Morgan said sternly. "The trade is this. You tell me what's going on with you and Vega and I'll forgive you."

Catherine set her plastic plate aside and slouched into the couch, wincing as one of her many bruises took the pressure.

"And the story had better involve details on why you're walking like someone took a crow bar to your legs," Morgan added.

"Fine, I'll tell you," Catherine relented. "But I'm not giving you all the details. They aren't all mine to share."

And just like that, Morgan's anger and annoyance washed away.

"I knew it!" she cried and threw herself down on the couch beside Catherine. "Ship board affairs had to start sometime, I just didn't figure it would be you."

"I didn't figure it would be me either," Catherine said. "Also didn't figure it would be me with someone like James Vega."

"Well, he is the hottest thing I've seen on two legs in a long time," Morgan said. "Is that body as gorgeous as I imagine it is?"

"You have no idea, Morgan," Catherine said with a girlish giggle. "He's got muscles in places I didn't know there _were _muscles."

"And the sex?" Morgan pressed her for more details.

"Mind blowing," Catherine grinned at her friend. "The first time we were totally out in the open in the shuttle bay. Anyone could have walked in on us. I thought that was what made it so hot, but then last night at the club... shit. I was so drunk. And I'm sure Aria did something to me to get me all hot and bothered before sending me back to James."

"Aria?" Morgan asked, confused.

"Yeah, she arranged for us to have a private booth," Catherine said. "But she made me sit and talk to her first. I've heard asari can influence emotion, but she must be some kind of expert at it."

"Holy shit," Morgan said, shaking her head. "You may be a total space cadet when it comes to keeping up to date with just about everything, but you make up for it with your luck. What was she like?"

"Scary," Catherine said, trying to remember all the details of her encounter. "Like everything she asked she already knew the answer to. Felt like she liked me though. Not sure if it was because I was with James or because I didn't kowtow, but I got that impression."

"Wow. That's crazy," Morgan said and Catherine wondered if she really believed her. "But back to James. What did he do to you that you're limping today?"

"Morgan, you don't really expect me to go into all the sordid details do you?"

Morgan's eyebrows jumped twice and she leered at her friend.

"Well, I'm not going to," Catherine said firmly. "I will tell you though that he was _very_ well endowed and does _not_ hold back if you give him the reins."

Morgan groaned. "Ugh, I am so jealous, Cat. Only action I'm going to get is whoever I hook up with on the Citadel."

"There are lots of guys on the ship. Why not one of them?"

"Believe it or not, I'm not as ballsy as you," Morgan said. "I don't think I could take the teasing."

"Well, thankfully there hasn't been a whole lot of teasing just yet," Catherine said.

"Oh, it's going to start," Morgan laughed. "As soon as Joker knows for sure what you guys are up to, you are never going to hear the end of it."

"Yeah, I think I might have a word with our esteemed pilot," Catherine said pushing herself off the couch with a grunt.

She leaned against the railing in front of the window and stared down at Sur'kesh. If the planet had had more significant ice caps it would have looked strikingly like Earth. Deep blue oceans covered most of the planet and the largest continents were still rich with verdant green vegetation despite the expansion of civilization.

A cyclone whirled near the equator, sending out ribbons of cloud around it like the spiral arms of a galaxy. The terminator line twinkled with the lights of spaceports and cities and resorts dotting the expansive coast lines.

It's three small moons, barely more than rocky asteroids, circled lazily, their faces bright against the depths of space beyond, untouched by Reaper violence. But it was coming. Only its distance from the Outer Rim was keeping it safe, but the Reapers would inevitably arrive and tarnish the planet and its satellites.

"I would love to go down to the surface," Catherine said with awe. "Do you think we'll get the chance while we're here?"

"Doubt it," Morgan said. She'd never been as interested in other planets as Catherine was. "Do you know what they're doing down there?"

Catherine shook her head. "I was in LS when the shuttle left. I thought the summit would go on for a lot longer."

"EDI wouldn't tell me anything, but she did say Shepard only took T'Soni and Vakarian with her. Maybe you could pull something out of Vega."

"Why would he know anything more?"

Morgan shrugged. "He's more likely to know something than any of us. Besides, I'm on duty in a few and you'll need someone to keep you company."

She winked at Catherine and strode out of a room. Catherine picked up her plate and returned it to the mess, giving it a rinse before putting it in the dishwasher. She decided to do what Morgan had suggested and go down to the shuttle bay to see James.

Her curiosity was driving her to find out what was going on, but more than that she found herself wanting to see James. The shuttle bay would be full of people, but his little corner was always more private than anywhere else and maybe it would be nice just to talk to him for a while. Cement the friendship part of a friends with benefits arrangement.

As before, James was at his work bench stripping down an assault rifle. He didn't notice Catherine approaching and she gave him a playful slap on the ass and flopped down on the cot beside the bench.

"Hey, big man," she said, locking her legs around his and pulled him a little closer.

He reached out a greasy hand and tried to smear some of the gunk across her cheek. She laughed and slapped his hand away.

"How's it going, Catnip? Those bruises feel any better today?" James looked sideways at her with a sneaky smile.

"Not so much," she said. "But I'll live."

"So what brings you down here?" he asked, looking back down at his work.

"Came for the view, Jimmy," she reached out and patted his firm, tight ass.

"You really going to call me Jimmy?"

"Why not?" she asked. "Don't like it?"

"Just never really been called that before," he replied. "It's okay, I guess. Keep letting me do things like I did last night and you can call me anything you want."

"I think a repeat of last night might have to wait for a bit," she said with a grimace.

He laughed at her and bent over to give her a kiss. She returned the affection, but didn't let it last long enough to light any flames that couldn't be easily extinguished.

"You really are something, you know that," he said. "Don't think I've ever met a girl quite like you."

"I will take that as a compliment," she said.

"You should." He winked at her and sat down on the cot beside her with a rifle scope in hand.

His large fingers worked at the tiny pieces with surprising dexterity, unscrewing the casing and removing the optics inside. She watched him work, marveling at his skill with the weapon part.

"So, uh, what's going on with this summit?" she asked finally. "I figured they'd be in there a lot longer."

"Well, I don't know all the details, but Wrex wants a cure for genophage and he says the salarians have got one."

He tried to polish the lens on his shirt and when he realized it was too dirty he stuck a hand under Catherine's clean shirt and pulled the fabric out to rub vigorously at the glass.

He seemed totally unaware that he had his hand up her shirt and she relaxed and just went with it.

"A cure for the genophage? Is that really such a good idea?"

James didn't look up from the scope. "How would you like it if someone spayed you?"

"I don't want kids anyway so I'm not a good person to ask," she said.

Now he glanced up at her. "Don't want kids, eh? Should I have been, you know, preventing stuff?"

"Naw, I took care of that years ago." She pulled her legs up, wrapped her arms around them and rested her chin on her knees. "Underwent VRS almost as soon as I enlisted."

"Voluntary reversible sterilization, right?" he asked.

"Right. Easiest way to keep the little buggers out of there."

"I get that." He began putting the scope back together, fixing the lens in place inside its casing. "Not really something I plan on doing either."

"Guess we really aren't the people to be debating the genophage then," Catherine said.

He put the reassembled scope on the work bench and leaned back with his arms folded over his chest.

"We can still have opinions," he said.

"Can we though? I mean we weren't around for the krogan rebellions. What the turians did might have been totally justified."

James turned his head to the side and stared at her. "That's like some alien looking back at Earth history and wondering if maybe Hitler was justified in killing off the Jews."

"That's a very good point, Jimmy," she said thoughtfully. "I hadn't thought of it that way. But what if the krogan really can overpopulate the galaxy in a matter of years?"

"I'd say that's the least of our worries right now," James said.

He uncrossed his arms and lowered his hands, one finding its way into her lap. She picked it up and turned it over, running her index finger along the deep lines in his palm. There were more scars there. One ran along the mound of his thumb and up his wrist.

"How old are you, James?" She looked up him, taking in his heavy brow and strong jaw line.

"I'll be twenty-nine in August." He closed his hand around her's and pulled it closer to his chest, playing with her fingers.

"Geez, you're not even thirty yet?" Catherine said in disbelief. "How does someone as young as you see enough action to get so many scars? Or are you just really clumsy?"

"Over a decade of continuous service, Catnip," he said proudly. "Fighting is what I do best."

"Yeah?" She leaned closer to him to whisper in his ear. "I might have to disagree with you there."

He was looking like he was about the lean in for another kiss when the ship veered sharply to the right. Catherine would have tumbled to the floor if James hadn't put and arm around her to steady her.

"What was that?" she cried.

"We've got Cerberus ships in orbit," Joker said over the intercom. "Too many for us to take on. Brace for evasive maneuvers."

Catherine looked around for a seat with a flight harness while James activated the magnetic surface of the workbench to keep everything from sliding off. Then he grabbed Catherine and spun her around, pinning her between his body and the wall. He locked his fists around the metal posts holding up the canvas walls and planted his feet firmly on the floor.

"No harness here, Catnip. Hold on tight."

She threw her arms around him and clung on for dear life. The inertial dampeners were not as effective in the shuttle bay due to the size of the space. The crates behind them were strapped firmly in place, but Catherine could feel them shifting every time the ship banked.

Finally their movement slowed and Joker came on the intercom again.

"All clear, but be ready for more."

"What the hell is Cerberus doing here?" James said angrily.

Catherine lowered her arms and he slowly dropped his, but he stood where he was and she could see the fury take over every feature of his face.

"They were on, Mars, weren't they?" she asked softly.

"Yeah," he spat. "Fucking bastards were executing people in cold blood."

Catherine raised a hand and rested it on his cheek. His skin was hot to the touch and the muscles in his jaw were tense. She could feel his teeth grinding.

"Easy there, big guy," she tried to sooth him.

"I need to hit something," he growled.

"Well, don't hit me," she joked, though there was a hint of fear in here voice that she couldn't mask. His rage was fearsome to behold.

He grabbed her around the waist with one arm and crushed her into him, his mouth grating into hers in a kiss that made her pulse pound in her ears.

"Never you, bonita," he said and turned away, stalking across the deck to a punching bag that dangled from the metal frame above.

His fist connected with incredible force, denting several inches into the hard surface of the bag. Catherine watched as he pummeled the bag with his fists, occasionally throwing in a kick and sending the bag spinning.

After about ten minutes of solid beating he stopped and let out a deep breath, shaking his arms and shoulders like a dog throwing off water. He bent his head from side to side and his neck cracked loudly.

He looked over his shoulder at Catherine and gestured with his head. "Come 'ere, Catnip."

Trepidatiously, she paced across the deck to his side. He stepped behind her and lifted her arms up in a defensive posture, balling her fingers into fists and nudging her feet apart with his.

"First rule of fighting," he said. "Know how to defend yourself. When you aren't throwing punches keep your hands high, fists protecting your temples. Keep your elbows in tight to your sides. No chicken wings."

He came back around in front of her and appraised her stance. He nodded his approval and took up his own fighting stance. Catherine immediately dropped her arms to her sides.

"There is no way I'm sparring with you," she laughed.

"C'mon, Catnip." He bounced from foot to foot. "You know I won't hurt you."

"Okay," she said, pulling her fists back to her face. "But if I end up with a concussion I'm going to tattoo a daisy on your forehead while you sleep."

"Ho ho ho," he laughed. "Them's fighin' words, girly!"

He started to circle around her with the graceful movements of a boxer.

"James, I don't know the first thing about fighting," she complained.

"Sure you do. I just told you," he said. "Defend yourself."

With that he swung out at her. She ducked to the side and lifted her arm to intercept his. They connected at the wrist and she managed to block his punch.

"See? You've got the idea."

She shook her hand out, the arm tingling. "That hurt, James."

"Yeah, but it felt good to block it, didn't it?" he challenged.

It had felt good. She knew he was holding back, way back, but even at a fraction of his strength she knew she was no match for him and stopping one punch, however weak, felt like a victory.

Her fist came back up and she narrowed her eyes at him. "Alright, Vega. Gimmi another."

He swung again and she ducked low, the passing of his fist ruffling the hair on her head. She came back up and blocked his next punch with her left arm and shot out with the other, hitting him in the centre of his chest with all the force she could muster.

James gave a little cheer and dropped his guard.

"I see you already know rule number two," he said with a laugh. "Do the unexpected. Good job, Catnip. Feisty in the sack, feisty in the ring I always say."

Catherine was about to come back with a snarky retort when her omnitool dinging at her. She rarely received messages on the device and activated it eagerly to see what it was.

A message scrolled up the holographic screen above her forearm. It was from Diana Allers and read only _Look at the picture I snagged._

Catherine opened the attached file and her jaw dropped.

"Son of a bitch," she swore. "Excuse me, James. I have to go have a word with that bitch."

"What is it, Catnip?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice.

She turned her arm so he could see the image on the screen. His eyes widened as he took in the details. From somewhere higher up in Purgatory, Diana Allers had been able to see down into their booth the night before.

Catherine was lying naked on the table top with her legs spread wide and James' head between them. Her face was locked in an expression of bliss and her hand were tangled in his hair.

"How the hell did she get that picture?" James said, though not with the same anger Catherine felt. "Those booths are supposed to have blur glass."

"Beats the fuck out of me!" Catherine shouted, turning heads from the other side of the deck. "I'm going to go ask her though."

"Mind uploading that to my desk before you go?" James asked.

She slapped him hard in the chest, but couldn't stop the smile blooming as she walked away. But she was furious, on the brink of releasing the rage James had tamped firmly down the night before, and she was going to let it loose in Diana Allers.


	9. Chapter 9 Scuttlebutt

Catherine stormed down the hall way to the starboard cargo hold where Diana Allers had set up her little production studio. She pounded her fist into the security panel and the door hissed open.

Rounding the corner she immediately felt her ire rise higher. The space was huge, almost the size of the entire crew quarters above and Allers occupied all of it. What was so special about this woman that had earned her this much space on the ship?

The news anchor was standing under glaring podium lights in front of a hovering camera, speaking off the cuff about N7 soldiers from across the galaxy being called in to aid in holding territory regained from Reaper and Cerberus forces.

She glanced at Catherine and continued speaking. Catherine walked right in front of the camera and dug her nails into her palms, resisting the urge to hit the woman.

"Just who the fuck do you think you are?" Catherine demanded.

"I was right in the middle of piece there," Diana said, as if Catherine had just casually interrupted to ask her the time. "Glad I wasn't live. That would have been embarrassing."

"What's wrong with you?" Catherine shouted. "You send me a message like that and then talk to me like nothing happened?"

Diana looked confused and so Catherine brought up the email on her omnitool and thrust it into the woman's face.

"Remember now?"

"I remember it perfectly," Diana said calmly. "I just don't understand why you're so mad."

Catherine sputtered, unable to get a word out past her indignation.

"You're kidding right? What is this? Some kind of blackmail? I don't know what you hope to gain from this."

"The email was a warning," Diana said, her hand on her hips and her chin thrust forward.

"And now you're threatening me?" Catherine waved her hands in the air, wanting to do anything with them other than strike out.

"No, it was a warning to be more discreet," Diana spat back. "If I could see you two, anyone could see you."

"Allers, those booths have blur glass," Catherine said with angry superiority. "They distort the image so light passes through and you can see out but not in."

"That glass only works from a distance. And if you have a fly cam you can send it in close enough to get an image."

"Why would you try to get an image at all?" Catherine shouted at her.

"I'm a journalist," Diana said as if that was justification enough. When Catherine didn't bite she added, "I'm always looking for a juicy scoop."

"You're a war correspondent!"

"Doesn't mean I don't enjoy a good scandal," Diana walked away from Catherine and went around the corner to sit on her bed, which was two and half times the size of the bunks the crew slept in. "This really blew up in my face."

"I'll say." Catherine followed her and stood in the opening leading to her living quarters, which along with the bed held a small couch and a table. "You still haven't explained why you sent me that picture."

"Believe it or not, I was trying to do you a favour," Diana said quietly. "Anyone could have taken that picture and it could have made its way around the extranet in minutes. I just wanted you to see how exposed you really were. I thought I was doing you a favour."

Catherine frowned at her in an expression of utter disbelief. "Why wouldn't you just send me a private note explaining that then? Why take a picture and then send it to me? It wasn't exactly encrypted. Anyone could have intercepted it."

"Once again, I'm a journalist," Diana said, standing. "I work with empirical evidence. Would you have taken me at my word if I had only said I could see you?"

"You're logic is fucking skewed, you know that," Catherine said with disgust. "Don't take anymore pictures of me or James and don't give me anymore friendly warnings. What James and I do behind closed doors is not anyone's business. Whether you meant well or not, sending me that picture was a totally douchebag move. Stay away from me."

She gave Diana the finger as she stormed out of the cargo bay, congratulating herself on not beating on the woman. James was in the hallway when she emerged and caught her arm as she tried to brush by him.

Feeling embarrassed she leaned against the wall and couldn't meet his eye.

"I heard all that," he said, lifting her chin to force her to look up at him. "This has really got you riled."

"I just need my privacy and she invaded it," Catherine said harshly, her ire still close to the surface.

"Let it go, Catnip." James punched her softly on the chin. "Not worth getting worked up about."

"No?" Catherine said, standing taller and meeting his eye. "Am I not entitled to a little respect from her? What the fuck is the deal with her anyway? She comes aboard our ship, our home, takes up more space than twenty other people put together and then takes pictures of us when we're naked. Everyone else on this ship serves a purpose. Shepard and her squad, you guys fight horrible battles. We, the crew, keep this ship running. What does she do? Seriously, James! WHAT DOES SHE DO?"

Catherine was shouting by this point, her chest heaving and her face burning with fury. She shook her hands in front of herself and started pacing.

"I get the sense this is more about her personally than that picture," James said.

Catherine stopped and looked up at him. "Doesn't it bug you? You're sleeping on a dirty cot in the hanger and she's got a big comfy bed and a freakin' couch. And a window! Did you know she has a window in there?"

James sighed and put an arm around her shoulders, guiding her back to the elevator.

"Shepard makes the calls round here and if that's what she gave Allers then there isn't much we can do about it," he said soothingly. "C'mon back down with me. We'll dance some more. I might even let you win."

In the elevator Catherine leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, breathing in deeply, trying to regain her composure. James stood away from her, giving her space and letting her relax.

She followed him back to his station and threw herself into the hand to hand lesson he gave her. Her skill was minimal and her strength left much to be desired, but he drove her hard, making her sweat. Ignoring the pain in her legs and abdomen she traded blows with him until EDI warned them that the shuttle was on approach.

James tossed her a breather mask 'just in case' and told her to stand clear as the shuttle reversed into the bay. The entire end of the hanger was open to the vacuum of space while the shuttle manoeuvred into place and Catherine grabbed at James' arm as vertigo assailed her.

There was a reason they called it space. That's what it was. Empty endless space, interrupted only by the occasional star or planet. It went on forever, rotating slowly as the ship rolled on its axis, and Catherine had an overpowering urge to walk toward the open doors and stand at the top of that fathomless precipice and look out upon the deep purple and black spilled sugar canvas extending in every direction.

A chill crept into the hanger, sending goose bumps racing up Catherine's bare arms. She clung to James, her fingers numb. When doors finally began to close she sagged in a combination of relief and disappointment.

"I guess you've never seen a view like that before, eh?" he asked with a chuckle. "Pretty spectacular."

Before she could reply the shuttle opened and Shepard stepped out. Her armour was battered and riddled with projectile impact marks. Soot coated her face and her hair was in disarray around her head.

Garrus, who Catherine still had not yet formally met, and Liara followed her, both looking just as filthy and tired as Shepard. Seeing them covered in grime and gore, Catherine understood why their water ration was so much higher than everyone else's. They certainly deserved it.

Shepard spied her and waved her over. Catherine let go of James' arm and jogged across the deck.

"Commander," she said with a salute.

"Hogan, go to medical with Mordin," Shepard said. "He'll need to make some adjustments to life support there."

"Mordin?" Catherine asked, confused.

Shepard gestured over her shoulder with her thumb and Catherine peered around her into the shuttle. Cortez had already powered the vessel down and the interior was dark. From the dimness a salarians stepped out. The red skin of his face of heavily scarred and he was missing one horn.

He stepped up to her and held out his hand. "Professor Mordin Solus. Pleasure to meet you. Will need to discuss life support parameters required for female krogan."

"Female krogan?" Catherine said slowly. "Here?"

"Indeed." Mordin gave her a quick smile that she barely had time to register before it was gone.

He turned and stared at the shuttle. Catherine could hear lowered voices within and a moment later a huge krogan in dark red armour hopped out, his landing shaking the deck. Just like the salarian, he was horribly scarred, his head plate marred by what looked like claw marks.

He turned back to the shuttle and held his hand out, only to have it ignored by the woman who stepped out behind him.

She was only slightly smaller than Wrex, but still multitudes larger than Catherine. Her entire body except for her eyes was covered in layers of rich fabric dyed dark reds and blues and edged with gold. Expressive eyes peered out from under a domed shaped head covering, surveying the scene around her.

The female krogan walked forward, her heavy frame making surprisingly little sound as she moved. She stopped beside Mordin and gazed down at Catherine.

"You may call me Eve, human."

"I've never met a krogan before," she said stupidly.

"Then I am glad I will be you first impression," Eve said with a voice so soft Catherine almost didn't believe it was hers. "Truthfully, I need no special changes in the ship to be comfortable, but this is easier than arguing with the salarian."

The Professor brushed past Catherine, his hurried steps taking him quickly to the elevator. Eve followed him more sedately. Catherine gave a smirking James a look of delight and wonderment and made to follow, but a hand on her arm stopped her. She turned to find it was Wrex who had grabbed her.

In a low voice no doubt intended to be intimidating he said, "She's the last hope for my people, little human. Don't do anything stupid."

Catherine didn't know a lot about krogan, but she did know that they respected strength and the ability to defend oneself. Her veins were still coursing with adrenaline from her sparring with James, and the fury she still felt towards Allers continued to simmer just below the surface, and as a result she was barely aware of her next action until after it happened.

The words had only just left Wrex's mouth when she pulled back her fist and ploughed it into his nose right below his head plate. The deck went silent and everyone stared at her. She wrenched her arm out of Wrex's grip and stared him down.

"Don't threaten me," she said, her voice low to hold back the tremble in it. "Number one, I'm not stupid. Number two, I answer to Commander Shepard."

The huge krogan's shoulders began to shake and a laugh erupted from him that echoed through the shuttle bay and made Catherine's want to clap her hands over her ears.

"I like this one." He slapped Catherine on the back, nearly knocking her to the floor. "Only the strongest in your crant, eh Shepard!"

"Only the best, Wrex," Shepard said, but as Catherine hurried by her to the elevator she gave her a look of disbelief that might also have contained disapproval.

Catherine didn't wait to find out. She joined Mordin and the female and they rode in silence to the crew deck. EDI had already informed the medic, who Catherine had only recently learned was the famed Doctor Karin Chakwas, and she was transferring her work to her omnitool and preparing to relocate to another area of the ship when they arrived.

Catherine sat down in her vacated chair and waited for Mordin to tell her what he needed from her. The salarian went about the room opening and closing cupboards and drawers, rifling through supplies and scanning through files, the whole time talking to himself about what he saw.

Finally, Catherine stood up and interrupted his rambling.

"Professor Solus," she said loudly to drag his attention away from the electron microscope he was testing. "What exactly is it that you need from me?"

"Ah yes, life support technician." He took a deep breath and turned to her, his eyes blinking rapidly. A datapad appeared in his hand and he passed it to her and his hypersonic speech continued. "Eve has dangerously low immune system. Will have to strictly maintain air filters, as well must make alterations to temperature and humidity. Krogan resilient, but an optimal environment is preferable."

Catherine perused through the itemized list, nodding as she did.

"This is easily doable. I can get the systems set up but it will take a while for it to take full effect." She glanced over at Eve where she sat on one of the gurneys. "Will you be alright until then?"

"I'll be fine," EVE said blandly, clearly tired of being asked.

"Saw your reaction to Wrex," Mordin said. "Brave."

"Brave indeed," Eve said. "But smart. Wrex had no right to threaten you."

Catherine began to explain that she'd been duelling with James and never would have reacted that way otherwise, but Eve stopped her.

"You showed your strength," Eve said. "It requires no explanation."

The krogan's eyes sparkled and Catherine gave her a small smile before mumbling that she should go make the adjustments to the rooms environment. She was tired and Ai-Wei or John could easily have made the changes, but Shepard had asked her specifically and after the look the Commander had given her she wasn't about to shirk her duty.

The changes took little time and once implemented the system would automatically adjust every time the doors opened and only tiny alterations would have to be made with regular maintenance by whoever was onduty.

As soon as she was done EDI informed her that the Commander wanted to speak with her and was waiting in her cabin. The AI could give Catherine no other information and her heart pounded explosively as she rode the elevator up to The Loft.

Stepping off the lift was like stepping into hell. The hallway outside Shepard's cabin was small and claustrophobic, lit only by dark orange floor lights, much as the CIC was, only here it was much more menacing.

She rapped softly on the door and a voice called for her to come in. The light that met her eyes was bright and watery and she realised it came from an enormous fish tank that took up half of the left wall. To the right of the tank was a small office space where datapads and paper files were piled haphazardly.

A collection of model ships was encased in glass around two sides of the desk which overlooked the living area where there was a large bed, an 'l' shaped couch, several chairs and another, smaller desk.

Shepard was waiting for her in the living area which was accessed by way of several steps. The Commander called for her to come down and Catherine went nervously down the stairs. She kept her eyes straight ahead and stood to attention.

"At ease, Hogan," Shepard said. "Have a seat."

Catherine sat on the edge of the chair across from Shepard, her hands folded in her lap and her back straight.

"Hogan, there are three things we need to talk about," she said. "And since you aren't blinking, I'll get the incident with Wrex out of the way first. You can stop worrying about that. It was exactly the right way to react to him. But please don't hit any more heads of state."

"I think I can manage that, Commander." Relief flooded through her and she relaxed a little, letting her shoulders fall.

"Now, I'm sure you've heard whispers on the ship of the Crucible." Shepard leaned forward with her elbows on her knees and her hands clasped in front of her.

"I have, ma'am," Catherine had heard the word said several times in the past few days, though had never been part of the conversation herself.

"Admiral Hackett has requested that I have my crew sign confidentiality agreements so that we can speak freely aboard the ship. Please keep this information to yourself for the time being. I'll be meeting with the entire crew individually over the next few days."

The Commander went on to explain to her what the mission to Mars had been all about and what they had found there. The Prothean archives had held plans for a super weapon of untold power that they hoped would be capable of destroying the Reapers.

Catherine was floored by the information and signed the form without question, not really understanding what exactly was going on, and Shepard moved on to her next topic while Catherine was still gathering her thoughts.

"EDI tells me there was an altercation between you and Diana Allers," Shepard said, her expression serious and her tone neutral.

"I apologize for that, Commander," Catherine said contritely. "It won't happen again."

"I have all the details, Hogan," Shepard said. "What Diana did was out of line and I will be having a word with her about it. I also understand the issue you take with her living quarters."

"I'm not questioning your decision, Commander," Catherine said hurriedly.

"I'm sure you aren't, but I'd like to explain all the same. Accurate and timely reporting can make all the difference with the public. They need to know that we are out here trying to make a difference. It's important that we have someone like Allers aboard the ship. Most Alliance ship would have quarters set aside for an embedded correspondent, but the Normandy is not equipped for that and the cargo hold is the only space we could allocate to her."

"I understand, ma'am," Catherine said simply.

"If she pulls any more crap like that, let me know," Shepard said. "There's no place for it on my ship. Dismissed."

Catherine stood, gave a salute, and tried not to hurry for the door. Just as she was leaving Shepard called her name. looking back she found Shepard standing at the bottom of the stairs with her arms crossed.

"I know you've never served on a ship before so I'll give you some advice. There are only three people you have to worry might blab about your affair; you, your partner, and the pilot. Everyone might know, but as long as you and James keep mum, they won't talk about it either. Living in close quarters like his we all have to keep each others secrets. Joker's the only one you have to worry about. I suggest you have a word with him."

Catherine blushed. The Commander was the same age as her, but it was like talking to a teacher or an older sister. Embarrassment chewed at her.

"Thank, Commander. I'll do that."

Shepard nodded and turned away. Catherine called the elevator up and rode it down to the CIC. She wanted to talk to Joker as soon as possible before he somehow managed to get his hands on the picture on her omnitool.

EDI was in the co-pilot's seat when she arrived at the bridge and Catherine decided that she might as well confirm EDI's silence at the same time.

Joker's chair spun around as she entered and the pilot spread his arms wide and grinned at her.

"Catherine! You're still alive. I was sure Wrex would have head-butted you to death by now. How does it feel to punch a krogan in the face."

She decided to go with the theme he'd introduced. "A lot better than you'll feel if you get chatty about anything you shouldn't."

"Such as?" His voice inflected high and she rolled her eyes at him.

"Such as any relationships that might not be yours to talk about," Catherine said, glaring at the foolishly grinning man.

"That's pretty harsh, Cat," he said, wounded. "Considering I know everything that goes on aboard the Normandy. It would be a lot easier to keep my mouth shut if you were to provide me with details yourself."

"That's not going to happen, Jeff," she said firmly.

He swivelled his chair back around. "Okay, but you're really letting me down here."

"Same goes for you, EDI, just without the threat," Catherine said to the AI who was studiously ignoring both of them.

"Of course, Catherine."

Catherine knew that this only meant that EDI and Joker would not talk about it with other members of the crew. There was no doubt in her mind that they would continue to discuss all the gossip they could get their hands on with each other.

She left the bridge and headed back for the crew quarters. She was worn out and her body was urgently demanding that she let it rest sooner rather than later. No one had told her what came next or where they were headed and she didn't care. The beatings she'd taken over the last thirty-six hours had cleared her head and she wanted to take advantage of that and get another decent sleep before the next time reality sucker punched her in the gut.

But she was thwarted yet again. Her mind went back to her conversation with Shepard and the form she had signed agreeing not to talk about any aspect of their mission.

Project Crucible she'd called it. Something about dark matter and particle acceleration. Physics had never been something Catherine could wrap her head around and most of what the Commander had told her had gone in one ear and out the other.

After seeing a Reaper and the what they were capable of, she had no idea how one weapon, no matter how big, could do any serious damage to them. It didn't seem like the scientists building quite knew the answer to that either. What if this Crucible was part of the Reapers plans? What if by building it they were speeding their own extinction in some way?

The thought was stupid and Catherine knew it, but it still slithered its way into her head and made it impossible to sleep. Giving up, she climbed out of her bunk and made her way to the port lounge. It wasn't empty, but it was quiet and the couches were deep and soft.

She lay on her back with one arm over her eyes and listened to the quiet conversation around her. Three people played a game of cards behind the glass screen at the other end of the room, two people sat at the bar sipping from highball glasses of chilled vodka.

Being in a place not intended for sleeping seemed to help and eventually she drifted off. She dreamed she was back on Earth as a kid when it was first confirmed that she had suffered eezo exposure in the womb.

Her mother had cried and fretted for days much to Catherine's confusion. Her dad had died the year before but in this dream he was there. He'd held her mother and comforted her, but as he turned to give his attention to Catherine his face changed. It drew inwards and the colour washed out of it until it was dark grey and leathery. His eyes fell from their sockets to be replaced by glowing blue orbs.

His skin split and wires sprang from his neck coiling down to his sunken chest and bony rib cage. His mouth gaped and piecing, raspy shriek came out, like atmosphere escaping out a hull breach. He threw himself at Catherine and she woke with a scream.

She sat up on the couch panting and gripping the cushions with white knuckles. For a moment she couldn't get her bearings. The room was dark except for the faint starlight coming in through the window and it almost seemed homey. Someone had draped a blanket over her taken off her shoes.

Swinging her legs over the side the couch she put her head between her knees and grabbed her ankles, fighting down the vomit threatening to rise up. She hardly ever dreamed of her dad. To have her mind betray her this way and turn him into a husk before her very eyes felt cruel and unfair.

"EDI, how long have I been asleep?" she asked quietly.

The ever present AI spoke gently from the intercom above. "Approximately three hours. I have judged that your sleep patterns are irregular and insufficient to keep you functional. Perhaps you should ask Doctor Chakwas for something to help you sleep."

Catherine shook her head. Despite having given Morgan the exact same advice, Catherine was reluctant to follow it herself. She liked to keep her body free of artificial drugs and never took anything unless she absolutely had to.

"If it gets much worse I will," Catherine said. "For now I'm okay. Can you tell me if James is still awake?"

"He is," EDI said. "Would you like me to ask him to come up?"

"No, that's fine. Thanks, EDI. Whose blanket is this?"

"It belongs to Doctor T'Soni."

Catherine got up off the couch and stretched. She was still stiff but the soreness was dissipating and she felt ready for another round with James.

She folded up the blanket and left the lounge, making her way to Liara's quarters opposite medical. The knocked on the door and a projector lit up and scanned her face. Liara was there a moment later, standing in the open doorway and blocking Catherine's view of the interior.

"I just wanted to bring your blanket back," she said and held out the bundle. "Thanks."

"You're most welcome, Catherine." Liara smiled at her and Catherine noticed her freckles for the first time. She'd never seen an asari with freckles before. "I supposed we all sleep when and where we can."

"Yeah." Catherine rubbed at the back of her neck. "I've been having some trouble in that department."

"I think we all have," Liara said sympathetically. "A form of stress release is a good thing to have. Though you seem to have no issues there."

Catherine could only stare at the asari. Was she referring to James or the fact that Catherine had done more drinking since coming aboard the Normandy than she had in the last year.

"Your secret is safe with me," Liara whispered.

"I'm not sure it's a secret anymore," Catherine said with a frown.

"Nevertheless, I won't tell a soul."

She went back into her room and the door closed quickly behind her. Knowing there was no point trying to sleep anymore, Catherine went in search of James. He was in the shuttle bay talking to Cortez, but left his friend and walked back to his station with her. He sat down on his cot with her and listened to her description of the nightmare she'd just had.

"That's pretty gruesome," he said when she was done. "I didn't know you were a biotic."

"I'm not," she said. "I have eezo in me, but the implant nearly killed me so it was taken out. I can't do anything except make myself light up a pretty blue when I really concentrate, and it just makes me feel sick to my stomach."

"Dreams like that is why I don't sleep a whole lot," James told her. "My dad was a monster all by himself."

"How so?" Catherine asked.

"He was a junkie. Treated me like shit after my mom died. My uncle did a lot for me."

Catherine leaned into him and tucked her arms through his. "Had any news?"

"No," he said quietly. "You?"

She shook her head and yawned. "You make me feel very relaxed, Jimmy."

"Yeah, same to you, Catnip." He reached up and patted her on the cheek. "So, we're heading for Eden Prime, eh."

"Really?" Catherine put her head down on this shoulder and closed her eyes. "Samantha said there was some Prothean artefact there."

"And we're going to get it," James said.

He kept talking, his low voice rumbling against her ear. She closed her eyes and just listened to the sound rather than the words, letting it lull and sooth her. Soon she felt him shift and stand up, lowering her down gently to the stiff surface of the cot. She curled on her side and he put something heavy and warm over her shoulders.

His voice continued to sound in her ears and she fell asleep to the sound of it, feeling safe and warm and comforted.


	10. Chapter 10 The Difference

Their arrival at Eden Prime went unnoticed by the Cerberus ships already in the system. Joker lingered over the planets night side while Cortez shuttled the Commander, Liara and James to the dig site.

Catherine was amazed that after what had happened there before anyone on Eden Prime would keep digging for Prothean ruins. It had brought nothing but trouble last time, though on second thought if it hadn't been for the beacon the Reapers would have returned regardless and they'd have had no warning whatsoever.

Many on the crew had expected Shepard to return them to the Citadel where Mordin could work on a cure in a real lab with better equipment and where Eve could recover peacefully. But as the marines had quickly pointed out, there were a lot of people in the galaxy who didn't want this cure to happen and would go to great lengths to stop it. The krogan and salarian were safer aboard the Normandy.

Catherine had woken just before they exited their last FTL jump to find James in the process of gearing up. She lay under the heavy leather coat he'd put over her and watched him climb into the tight black body suit that went under his armour.

For the first time she noticed that he had more tattoos on his back, matching the ones on his front. He had fewer scars on his torso, presumably because him armour protected him, but they were still there, etched into him haphazardly like a child's erratic drawing.

Otherwise he was a rich, bronzy brown. Velvety smooth like granite wrapped in silk. But it wasn't due to any special effort on his part. It was the pristine skin of youth. It was hard to believe that such a strong and experienced a man was so young.

Shepard was only a few years older, but somehow James still being in his twenties made him seem that much younger. Slowly but surely he was revealing little nuggets of information about his past and she ached for what he had endured through the course of his life.

Catherine's dad might be dead, but she'd take that any day to having a junkie for a father. James hadn't gone into details, but she'd heard the tone before, from others who'd endured what he had. He'd been abused, mentally, emotionally, and physically. More so the first two which Catherine knew could be more damaging, but somehow he'd crawled out of it to be a kind man who genuinely cared about the people around him.

But he wasn't entirely whole. He took his anger and frustrations out on himself, taking insane risks and pushing his body to its very limits. She wondered what kind of man he would be if his mother had been alive to raise him. Clearly his uncle had been a positive influence in his life, but that wasn't the same as the love and encouragement of a parent.

Her study of him was broken when the alarm on her omnitool chimed telling her that she had half an hour until her shift started. James turned at the sound and gave her a winning smile.

"Sleep alright?" he asked.

She stretched out on the cot, muscles tensing and resisting the sudden movement. "Yeah, I don't pity you quite so much anymore. This cot isn't half bad."

"Since you're up you can give me a hand with this."

Catherine stood, stretched again, then crouched down beside the open crate containing his armour. To her surprise it held only one suit. The blue plating took up the entire interior and she wondered how all of it would fit on his body.

"What do you need my help with?" she looked up at him, trying to keep her eyes from the rigid muscles of his thighs.

"This set's easier to put on if someone holds the back plate in place while I strap on the front. I can do it alone, but like I said, since you're here..."

He leaned over the pulled the blue chest plate with its stylized fox head out one handed and held it up in front of himself.

Catherine reached in and tried to lift the back plate. It was a lot heavier than she expected and she struggled with it, bracing it against her own chest to hold in place against his back.

"James, this weighs a freakin' ton," she said through gritted teeth. "How do you even move wearing this?"

"Well, I don't do a lot of sprinting," he joked. "And if we have to fight more Cerberus troops I gotta wear what'll keep their toys from punching a hole through me. I have heavier stuff, but-"

"You have heavier armour than this?" Catherine let her tired arms drop to her side and stared at him in disbelief.

"Sure," he said with an easy shrug. "It's all suited for different battlegrounds. I'd only wear the really heavy stuff if we were dropping in somewhere really hot. That stuff can withstand close calls with aerial bombardments and artillery strikes."

"What makes you think there won't be those things here?"

"Cause Cerberus wants whatever's down there and they aren't likely going to risk it by blowing the place to bits."

"I'm glad I have you to explain this stuff." Catherine gave her head a shake and reached down to pass him his blue and white striped shoulder guards.

Piece by piece she handed him his armour; greaves, gauntlets, thigh plates, gloves, boots. She marvelled at how much it all weighed and was even more impressed by his ability to carry it all with such ease. He was as at home in his armour as she was in her own skin.

Hours later, as she sat at her station in the CIC she thought back to that morning in the shuttle bay and hoped that his armour would be enough protection. James was rapidly becoming very important to her and she didn't know what she would do without him there.

It felt strange to acknowledge it, but she was glad she wasn't developing stronger feelings for him. Somehow she was managing to maintain what she thought was impossible. A friendship that went beyond the intangible and was something physical as well.

Their intimacy seemed to be an extension of the natural rapport between them. When she kissed him it felt good, but it didn't go deeper than that. There wasn't the same up swell of emotion that accompanied sex with someone you love, where the pleasure came as much from the physical contact as the knowledge that the person with you loved you as much as you loved them.

She hoped James continued to feel the same way. It was impossible to image him meaning anything more to her, and she didn't want to break his heart with rejection. So far, all seemed to be going well.

Shepard and her squad were on the planet surface for hours. Catherine was done her shift by the time EDI announced the shuttles imminent return and Catherine wanted to go down to the shuttle bay to meet James, knowing he would need to blow off some steam and wanted to release it with him.

But EDI stopped the elevator at the crew deck and told her that for the time being the lower decks would not be available to her. She assured Catherine that the mission had been a success and the squad had returned unharmed. Still, Catherine lingered near the lift hoping that James would come up for a shower.

It was doubtful that he'd had much sleep considering she'd slept on his cot, and all she wanted was to see with her own eyes that he was in one piece.

She was pacing between the elevator and the memorial wall when Morgan emerged from the crew quarters. Catherine didn't see her until Morgan whispered at her from a few feet away.

"Oh my god, Cat. You are completely infatuated with the man."

Catherine stopped pacing at stared at Morgan for a moment before she said, "There is a big difference between infatuation and concern."

"He's alright, isn't he?" Morgan asked.

"Yeah, EDI says they're all fine. I just want to see it for myself." She leaned back against the wall and sighed deeply. "He helps me sleep, Morgan. That's really all this is."

"It's not a big jump from that to more." Morgan leaned her shoulder against the wall beside Catherine. "Would it really be so bad?"

"No, it's not that," Catherine said, searching for a way to put the feeling into words. "He's a sweet and caring man. I just don't feel that way about him. At all."

"Really?" Morgan scrunched her face up at Catherine.

"Really."

"Wow, never thought you'd go for the fuck buddy thing."

"It's more than that," Catherine said with a frown. "I think. I don't know, Morgan. It works and it helps. I'm not going to question it."

"I could be a bitch and demand to know why my friendship isn't enough, but I'm not about to provide you with orgasms so I will just take your word for it that he's what you need."

Morgan gave her a comforting smile and a pat on the shoulder and then dragged her away from the elevator and into the lounge. She poured them drinks and then forced Catherine to sit down at the games table and dealt them a hand of cribbage.

She skilfully kept Catherine's mind occupied until it was time for her to resume her post in the CIC. Two of the marines, Bethany and Sarah, who guarded the entrance to the conference and war rooms joined Catherine and the game turned to poker.

Not long after, more drinks were added and bets were made. Catherine was terrible at poker and relied purely on luck, but luck was on her side and within an hour she'd cleaned the other two women of all their credits.

They left making sarcastic and nasty remarks, but smiling all the same and challenging Catherine to a rematch the next time their off duty hours synched up.

Catherine was left alone in the lounge and she tried desperately to hold onto her good mood. Feeling the need for some music she tilted back the hood of the mood chair by the bar and lay down, pulling the dome and its holographic screen down over her head.

Her own extensive music collect had been left behind on Earth, but EDI's archives held a reasonable variety and browsing through it Catherine was pleased to find several of her favourites.

She selected a synth band called Faunts from nearly two centuries back and turned the volume up as loud as her ears could bear and then turned it up some more. The liquid lights in the dome pulsed, morphed and swirled with the beat of the music. The moody, submissive melodies were hypnotic. Their music spoke to Catherine on another level; a place of dreams and ethereal oceans filled with the vibrant texture of sound.

Tempos rose and fell, merging and separating, a barely perceptible dance of harmonies and strains. One minute a song was slow and trance inducing, bringing to mind lush green forests and gentle winds. The next it was roaring like a plummeting cascade, a whirling cyclone of notes that though discordant and harsh alone, were a symphony of euphoria combined.

Catherine lost herself in the music, allowing it invade her and take her someplace else for a short time. The ancient music held no taint of the current trauma of the galaxy. The people who'd written it so long ago had never heard the name Reaper and knew nothing of the fate that awaited their species.

When a hand suddenly ran up the inside of her leg she jumped and tried to sit up, hitting her head on the inside of the dome with a resounding crack.

"Son of a bitch," she swore violently.

She rubbed the top of her head and hissed through clenched teeth. The top rolled back and James' not so apologetic face looked down at her.

"Sorry, Catnip." He grinned at her. "Didn't mean to spook ya."

She shut the music off and swung her legs down on either side of the permanently reclined chair. James took her hand from her head and parted her hair to look at her scalp.

"Well, you didn't crack it open," he said. "Guess you've got a thick skull, just like me."

"You seem cheery," she said, rubbing her head again, sure there was a bump rising.

"Killed me a whole bunch of Cerberus troops." He flopped down on the couch and pull his booted feet up on the low table. "Felt pretty damn good."

"Killing them felt good?" Catherine felt unsure of her affection for the first and only time in that moment.

"They were killing off the colonists," he said, his good spirits fading. "Those they didn't kidnap. Besides, they aren't men any more. They're filled with Reaper tech and only a step up from Husks."

"Sorry, Jimmy," Catherine said softly. "I didn't mean to judge. I'm just not used to all this yet. The battles and the killing."

She sank down onto the couch beside him and he reached over and pulled her legs over his lap so she was sitting sideways. Leaning into the back of the couch she studied his face. Despite his entrance he seemed distressed, disturbed, like he needed a distraction.

"How did you end up in the Alliance anyway, Catnip?" he asked.

"It's a long story."

"Tell me anyway," he said, slouching into the couch and closing his eyes.

"Okay." Catherine folded her arms against her chest and shifted, getting comfortable. "I started out in horticulture way back when. Lots of money in growing things for those rich enough to have the space for a real garden. And I was really good at it. Eventually, I got into agriculture. I was head hunted by a company in Vancouver. That's how I ended up in the west."

"Where did you grow up?" James didn't open his eyes as he spoke.

"Ontario mostly," she said. "Up north where the sprawl never quite hit, but we travelled a lot when I was a kid. Did all of North America before I was ten and even lived in Spain and Israel for a while in my teens. Anyway, I started working in greenhouses. It was hard work filtering out all the filth in our atmosphere and I got pretty good at it."

"How did that get you into the Alliance?" James asked.

"Head hunted again," she said. "The Alliance was looking for life support trainees. Not a lot of difference between keeping plants alive and keeping people alive. I wasn't going to join at first, but then I realized it might be my ticket out. I'd always dreamed of seeing other planets and serving on a ship seemed the best way to do it."

She went on to tell James about her first three months and how much she'd hated it. Raw recruits, no matter what they were destined for, always went through boot camp. She hadn't been out of shape, but she hadn't been an athlete either. The forced marches and drills had worn her down to the bone and she'd almost washed out.

But she'd endured and made it through by the skin of her teeth and gone on to apprentice an older woman who'd seen service in the First Contact War with the turians. The woman had had a grudging respect for aliens and instilled in Catherine a sense of wonder about other species and a desire to learn about their cultures.

"It was Specialist McGill who eventually got me a place serving in the shipyards in Vancouver," Catherine said, seeing the slightly overweight, grey haired war veteran in her mind's eye. "I'm pretty sure it was also her who brought me to Anderson's attention."

"Anderson always did have an eye for talent," James said.

Catherine went on. "After the Battle of the Citadel, the Alliance started work on several more Normandy class ships. Ever hear about the SSV Sagan?"

James opened his eyes and looked at her, his brow wrinkling as he tried to recall if he'd heard the name before.

"I don't think so."

"Doesn't surprise me," Catherine said. "She never got off the ground. Ended up being a huge debacle. Sagan was designed for first contact missions. She had the most widely adaptable life support system ever installed on a human vessel. The asari caught wind of it and made the Alliance shut the project down."

"Isn't this all confidential," James questioned.

"It was never made public, but anyone who visited the ship yards knew about it," Catherine explained. "Anderson was one of those people. When he was given a seat on the Council he did a tour of Alliance facilities on Earth. He was impressed by my work on the Sagan and gave me his personal email address and told me to contact him if I ever needed anything. I wrote to him the next day and told him what an honour it had been to meet him and that I hoped to one day serve under an officer like him. He must have looked into my file because the next day I was suddenly accepted into the courses I needed to qualify for service aboard a ship."

"But I thought you'd never served before now?" James asked.

"I haven't, but Anderson was grooming me for it," Catherine said, remembering the email she'd received from the Admiral requesting to be part of the retrofit team on the Normandy.

"Well, I'm glad you're here, Catnip." He patted her roughly on the leg and then pulled her up onto his lap. "What makes you so good at what you do?"

She curled into him and his arms tightened around her.

"I don't just go by the numbers," she said. "I go by feel."

James tucked his hand between her legs.

"By feel, eh?" His voice was low and his eyes half closed. "What else do you do by feel?"

Catherine sat up and moved until she straddled him. She put her hands against his chest, feeling how tense the muscles were.

"Lots of things," she said softly. "Like I can feel the stress in you. Your muscles are solid, but they aren't this hard. Not when you should be relaxed."

"Tough day," he said, and reached behind her head with one hand and pulled her forward. "You ready for round three?"

In answer she closed the gap between them and kissed him deeply. Unlike the first two times they'd been together, this time was slower and more sensual. Neither of them felt the same sense of urgency and they savoured each other, allowing hands to wander and caress, lips to linger and entice.

It was no less intense, but their clothes stayed on much longer and when James finally started to tug at the bottom of her shirt she pulled away.

"EDI, what are the chances of you locking that door for about twenty minutes?"

"Only twenty minutes, Catherine?" EDI's voice was sly and Catherine wondered not for the first time if EDI watched them because she saw every area of the ship anyway or because she enjoyed it.

Catherine blushed and James mouth came down on her neck to track the progress of the colour creeping along her skin.

"I'm sorry, Catherine," EDI continued. "But the lounge is a public area of the ship. I cannot lock the doors to other members of the crew."

"Want to risk it, Catnip?" James' voice was muffled against the bare skin he'd revealed by unzipping her shirt to her belly button.

"Not really," she said in annoyance. "EDI, what if I were to accidentally disable the door? How long would it take you to discover the problem and repair it?"

"Long enough," was EDI's reply, and Catherine jumped off James' lap and bolted for the door.

The panel beside the door came loose easily. Catherine activated her omnitool and crashed the doors security system. EDI's voice was heard above them. Her voice was distinctly amused.

"Alert: Lock down in effect. Maintenance required. Attempting repair."

James was already on his feet behind Catherine. As long as no one came to the door and discovered the malfunction, the door would remain locked. He clearly did not want to waste a moment.

Her shirt came up over her head still partly zipped and James' skilled fingers easily unsnapped her bra, letting if fall to the floor. She gasped as his hands came around to cup her breasts and he went down on his knees behind her to lick and kiss his way up her spine.

He stopped when he reached the centre of her back and gave a particularly long and sucking kiss to one spot.

"You've got a tattoo," he said with interest. "What's the symbol?"

The mark was tiny, barely more than the size of the nail on her pinkie finger. It was done in a shade very close to her own skin tone and took a keen eye to spot.

"It's an ankh. It's Egyptian."

"I like it," James said, and continued his way up her spine.

When he reached her neck, Catherine turned in his arms and decided to take control. It was his turn to be pampered and spoiled. His turn to have the stress and anxiety washed away. He'd done enough for her already.

She gave him a little shove towards the couch and continued to push until he toppled backwards onto the cushions. Locking eyes with him she used her toes to pry her shoes off one at a time, then hooked her thumbs in her pants and wiggled. Stepping out of them she lowered herself down to straddle him again, sitting back on his knees, her entire body completely exposed, and began undoing his huge belt.

He ran his hand up and down her thigh a few times, his calluses scraping and scratching at her baby soft skin. When she had his belt undone and his pants unzipped she stood in front of him, his face only inches from her hips and told him to take of his pants.

With fire in his eyes he pressed his back into the couch and lifted his hips to yank his pants away. When they were gone, Catherine slowly lowered herself back down to where he slouched. His enormous cock lay heavy and full on his abdomen. She brought herself down directly atop in and rubbed herself along the length.

James groaned and dug his fingers into her hips, creating bruises that would show up later. Catherine continued to move until they were wet and sticky with her juices and then she lifted up just enough that she could reach a hand down between them.

She gripped him and held him upright, letting him sink slowly into her. The pressure of it was intense. Sitting over him like this he suddenly seemed twice as large. She pulled her hand away and braced both palms on his shoulders, looking down and focusing on the tattoos on his chest.

It took a full five minutes before she was ready for more vigorous movement and James let her take the lead entirely. She rode him, slowly at first, but gaining speed with each swaying motion. He sat up and wrapped his arms around her, moaning into the hollow of her throat as she pushed her hips forward, allowing him the deepest entrance she could.

"Turn around, Catnip." His voice was throaty and she obeyed.

She lifted herself until just the tip of him remained and then she thrust down one last time before standing up again and turn to face him.

He was on his feet in a second and her by the waist. He slid around behind her and leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"I need it hard and fast now, Catnip. Bend over."

Her heart skipped a beat and she bent at the waist, putting her hands onto the cushions that still held the heat of their bodies. James grabbed her by the hips and eased himself into her once again. Catherine felt her legs go weak but his hold on her kept her in place as he began to move.

The pure animalism of the position brought out cries and guttural moans Catherine had never made before. James stabbed with his hips, reaching deep inside her with each thrust, grunting with the effort and digging his fingers deeper into her flesh.

Suddenly, a wave of pleasure like Catherine had never felt exploded out from within her and she bore down on him, pushing her hips back and arching her spine. Her body gripped his as he reached his climax and his seed burst out of him, dripping down the inside of her leg and onto the floor.

He pulled out of her and she collapsed onto the couch, curling into a ball and riding the wave of ecstasy still coursing through her.

"I feel better," he said and gave her a little slap on her bare ass.

He went behind the bar and found a cloth which he soaked with water and tossed to her after wiping himself off. The cloth was cold and felt wonderful against the heat between her legs. She would need a shower for sure, but at least now she could put her clothes back on.

She got up and gave the couch a wipe down and then mopped up the drips on the floor. James came up behind her and pressed himself against her where she bent over.

"You are something else, Catnip," he said.

She stood and faced him. "I'd just like to make one thing clear for my own conscience more than anything else. I've never had a friend with benefits before."

"Me neither," James admitted. "I've had girlfriends and one night stands and even some fuck buddies, but this is something new."

"So fuck buddies are different from friends with benefits," she said triumphantly.

James stepped closer and put one arm around her, lifting her hand with other and kissing her palm. "Sure they are. Fuck buddies just fuck. They have a good time and then go their separate ways."

"I guess we are more than that, aren't we," Catherine said, lying her hand on his cheek. "I'm glad."

James answered her with a yawn that showed her the view right back to his dangling tonsils and she burst out laughing. She gave his a rough pat on the chest and kissed him on the neck.

"Go get some sleep, Jimmy."

EDI's voice came on the intercom just then. "Twenty minutes is long up, Catherine. I suggest you get dressed."

"How long has it been?" Catherine asked.

"'Bout forty-five," Joker said and Catherine pressed herself against James, trying to hide the pilot's view of her nakedness.

"Oh my god, I hate you so much, Jeff," she shouted.

"We're you spying on us, you little gimp," James said harshly, but Catherine could tell he was laughing.

"Never!" Joker sounded offended. "Now get dressed so EDI can fix the door before the system automatically generates a report to maintenance."

With that possibility looming over their heads they tugged their closed back on and exited the room. As they left Catherine heard the air vents switch on and silently thanked EDI. Hopefully there would be no evidence of their little tryst.

James was already gone from the deck when Catherine left the shower. She didn't really want to be around anyone else so she climbed into a sleep pod and began to drift off, her body beaten, sore and tired once again. As sleep took her she thought of something and opened a comm channel inside the pod.

"EDI, is James asleep?"

The AI took a moment to respond. "Yes, Catherine, he is."

"Good," Catherine said sleepily. "Good."


	11. Chapter 11 Successes and Failures

For two and a half weeks Shepard zipped them around the galaxy while Mordin worked on his cure. As the only ship of its kind, they were able to stealth their way into systems that had already been lost to Reaper forces and they retrieved innumerable assets to aid in the war effort.

EDI developed a pulse signal they could use is system to locate distress beacons and battle debris, as well as pinpoint the locations of various items Shepard was determined to salvage in order to garner more support. Catherine didn't quite understand the way this pulse signal worked, but they learned quickly that it could only be used so many times in one system before the Reapers were alerted to their presence. There were several near misses before they got the hang of it and managed to avoid the Reapers when searching a star system.

The ships QEC made it possible for them to stay in touch with the Council and for the Wrex and the Primarch to continue to coordinating the battles on their own planets. Admiral Hackett was in near constant communication, sending Shepard all over the galaxy, mostly to fight Cerberus troops, which drove everyone round the bend. They all wanted to be fighting the real enemy, not their own people.

It wasn't until a week after Eden Prime that it was finally revealed to the crew just what the artefact was that had been recovered. There had been rumours bouncing around the ship like stray bullets, but no one was prepared for it really was.

A Prothean. A real live Prothean, locked in stasis for the last fifty thousand years. His name was Javik, and although the whole crew we eager to meet him, Shepard forbade anyone from disturbing him until he was ready to emerge from the starboard cargo bay.

Not until almost three weeks after Eden Prime when they arrived in the Aralahk system for the first time, destined for Tuckanka, did he made an appearance. Even then it was only because he intended to go to the surface with Shepard and Garrus to shut down a Cerberus operation that he emerged.

Catherine was down in the shuttle bay sitting and talking with James when the alien came down ahead of Shepard and wandered onto the deck. James of course had already seen the alien and was not surprised, but Catherine was struck dumb by his arrival.

She stared with slack jawed wonder as Javik approached and stood just outside the area of James' station. He clasped his hands behind his back and studied Catherine just as intently as she did him. Finally he looked away and stared at James.

"James soldier," he said in a remarkable deep voice. "This female is your mate?"

James shift awkwardly. "Uh, we mate, yeah, but she's not _my mate_."

"I do not understand," Javik said, his four yellow and black eyes blinking slowly.

"I thought that was pretty clear actually," James said.

"The act of procreation is... recreational for your species?" the alien asked skeptically.

"It wasn't for yours?" James retorted.

"No."

He said it with such disgust that Catherine felt compelled to jump in.

"Good thing we aren't Prothean then, eh?" She said venomously.

Javik stared at her but offered no apology. He narrowed his eyes at her and stepped closer, reaching out a hand to touch her arm with his strange snake skin fingers.

Catherine felt a surge of emotion and images of her time with James flashed through her head. The Prothean took his hand away and looked sharply at James.

"You lied, James soldier. What you do with this human is not sport."

He reached out again and touched the bare skin of James' forearm. James stiffened as he experienced the same rush she just had. Javik backed away and looked between the two of them again.

"You feel for one another, but not as a bonded pair. That is not as repugnant as I first thought, but I still do not understand."

Without another word, the alien turned and walked away. He joined Cortez at the weapons lockers and began discussing the available firepower.

Catherine turned to James and her mouth opened and closed several times before she finally said, "What the fuck was that?"

She couldn't decide whether she was offended or amused or both. James tried to explain to her that the Protheans had been able to read emotions, even residual ones, through touch. He barely understood it himself and eventually, when Catherine's questions got deeper than he could fathom, he told her ask Liara and stop pestering him.

That was Catherine's first encounter with their Prothean ship mate and it was as off putting an introduction as was possible. Her later conversation with Liara and Joker in the mess gave her the impression that they'd had similar conversations with him. Not on the same topic, but with the same tone of curiosity and condescension.

They stayed in orbit around Tuchanka for three full day/night cycles while Shepard and her squad routed the Cerberus forces and gained control of an ancient and massive ground to space cannon on the surface. Hackett sent troops to maintain the position against repeated Cerberus attempts to take it back and Shepard returned them to a Citadel to restock.

News of the war finally seemed to be getting through to people on the station and Shepard completely restricted crew movements. They could explore the Persidium to their hearts content, but travel to Wards became prohibited. James and his rebellious streak went temporarily deaf and convinced Garrus to have friends of his in C-Sec let them past the cordons and brought Catherine down to Bachjret Ward anyway.

Something in her told her that it would likely be the only time she would ever experience the less savory places on the station. They spent an entire day exploring. Catherine discovered an out of the way restaurant called Spirit of the Dragons Tear that catered to humans and served a wide array of Asian dishes.

Unable to resupply, the restaurant was in the process of closing and had few customers. The owners, a older Japanese couple from Okinawa, ate with them and they shared stories of life on the Citadel. They drank warm Saki and gorged themselves on sashimi, udon noodles with fried cabbage, and tender cubes of teriyaki chicken.

The couple tried to offer them their meal for free, but Catherine refused and paid the tab in full and added a tip of nearly three times the amount of the bill. James bought several bottles of Saki and Sapporo beer from them and the couple bowed to them, offering blessing and wishing them luck as they left.

Supplies were becoming scarce already as people began to hoard and build secret caches of spare parts and tech. James' knowledge of the underbelly of society proved invaluable their second day on the station when Catherine went out in hopes of buying replacement filters for their Co2 scrubbers and other parts.

James was forced to strong arm the goods out of a turian vendor who was unwilling to sell to Catherine for some unknown reason. Later he introduced her the process of bribing when an elcor was reluctant to part with his stock of fiber optic wires that Catherine wanted.

None of the parts were needed urgently, but everyone on the ship was gathering up what they might need in the future, and though fiber optic cables were durable and rarely needed replacing, Catherine's feel for the ship told her that they should have them just in case.

It wasn't until they left the station that Catherine heard that Major Alenko had been made a Spectre, only the second human every to be given the honour. Pride in her species made her heart glow and as they returned the Aralahk she felt better than she had since leaving Earth.

She and James had been spending most of their off duty hours together. The shuttle bay became her second home and she grew to know Cortez better the more time she spent there. He was kind man whose sadness pervaded almost every move he made. He talked often with Shepard and was slowly overcoming the grief that Catherine learned was due to the violent and sudden loss of his husband, Robert, to a Collector attack.

James and Steve were good friends. They'd served together before and James had known Robert, though not well, and he made every effort to ensure that Steve stayed distracted. He even played at harmless flirting and pretended not to see when Steve watched him workout.

After the desperate evacuation of Grissom Academy, where Cerberus had been abducting children and teenagers, it had been Morgan who had needed comfort and release. When she'd heard the details about the mission, Morgan had broken down at her station and been inconsolable. Shepard gave her forty-eight hours down time and Catherine put away her own issues and went to the aid of her friend.

With James and Garrus, she and Morgan drank themselves silly in the lounge. Catherine put on her bravest mask and laughed and joked until Morgan's face was wet with tears of mirth.

That was also the first time she really got to know Garrus. The turian was personality on two legs. He was clever and charming and dashing all at once. He reminded Catherine of every hero she'd ever read about. It didn't surprise her at all that he was Shepard's best and closest friend.

Like James, Garrus had been through hell at several junctures in his life. His desire to see justice done had driven him from C-Sec and into the embrace of the Normandy crew. When the ship went down, and Shepard with it, he'd morphed into the Robin Hood of Omega. The vigilante known as Archangel. Even back on Earth Catherine had heard rumours of him.

Talking to Garrus, drinking and playing cards and laughing with him, it was hard to image him as a killer, even of thugs, bandits and criminals et al. He was just too sweet. Even when Catherine was at her drunkest and challenged him to a slap fight he indulged her, chuckling and shaking with hilarity when he realize that the game essentially entailed waving his hands around with hers until someone got slapped hard enough that they quit.

Bonds were forming throughout the ship. Morgan and Catherine grew away from the people they had originally been closest to. Namely Samantha and Ivan as they were close with Diana whom Catherine could still barely stand.

James and Morgan continued to grow closer as well, though they seemed to have a strange relationship that revolved around Catherine and who monopolized the bulk of her time. He teased her and she bullied him, all of it good natured, but Catherine began to sense something else between them. Something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

After leaving the Citadel again their pace picked up. James now accompanied Shepard on most missions, including one in the Attican Traverse that lost them an entire team of krogan scouts save for one soldier, but gained them the help of the rachni. Catherine barely believed it until she saw footage of the Crucible project where rachni were working alongside human scientists.

The images were part of a series being covertly passed among the crew. As a result of these stolen images the secret was leaked that Liara was in fact the Shadow Broker. Her goal had been to keep morale high and Shepard did nothing to stop her, thought the pictures were technically top secret.

Somehow the information about Liara's secret identity did not surprise Catherine, and it explained why she kept her quarters locked and let no one inside besides Shepard, Garrus and occasionally EDI.

Javik had taken to exploring the ship and was often encountered in strange places at strange times. Catherine found him once just standing in life support with his eyes closed and his hand against the wall. When he realised she was there he said something about there being illness in that room and left in a hurry, descending back down to the engineering deck.

They spent another week in orbit around Tuchanka while Mordin worked on the cure. At the request of the Primarch, Shepard mounted a mission to rescue a turain platoon that had crashed on the planet. Along with Garrus and Javik they were gone for two days leaving the rest of the crew at loose ends.

Mordin slept little and worked almost continuously, but he made a habit of stopping every four hours or so to engage a random member of the crew in conversation to both stimulate and clear his mind. The conversations, which were often more like debates, sometimes heated ones, ranged in topic choice from astrophysics to philosophy, mythology to string theory.

Catherine several times found herself a participant, or victim as she called it, of Mordin's conversations. On one particular occasion their arguing in the mess hall drew the attention of half the crew.

"No. No no no no. Time travel not possible," Mordin almost shouted, chopping his hand through the air with finality.

"And why not?" Catherine demanded just as fervently. Two hundred years ago on Earth no one believed that faster than light travel was possible. Who are you to say that time travel is 'not possible'?"

"Studied the theory extensively in my youth," Mordin declared as if that was enough to convince her. When all she did was cross her arms and stare at him he continued, "To punch a hole into the fabric of space-time would require the energy of a star or negative energy, an exotic entity with an energy of less than nothing. Plus, possible paradox could destroy life as we know it."

"Mordin, you of all people should be able to recognize that that is theory alone," Catherine said, laughing. "The fact remains that we don't have the capability to even test the theory, therefore we can't prove it to be right or wrong. For all we know time is constantly in flux and everything in the universe is happening at the same time and all we have to do is fold space to arrive at a different point in time. Or maybe time isn't something abstract at all. Maybe there is some solid part of time that we aren't able to perceive, but if we were we would be able to take hold and move ourselves along it."

Mordin stood and began pacing beside the table. "Perhaps. Other species yet unknown could perceive time differently. Time meaningless to machines. But no, time travel still not possible. The past is finished. Cannot be changed. Only future and present in flux."

"But how do you know?" Catherine continued to challenge. "Maybe the future is what's carved in stone. Maybe no matter what we do the future is set to happen a certain way. Maybe the Universe has ideas of its own and our choices have no bearing on the future its decided for itself."

"Universe as sentient entity," Mordin said with a knuckle to his chin. "Interesting. Had not considered this. Universe with plans. Universe unaffected by us. Thank you, Catherine."

He turned and stalked back to medical leaving Catherine and their audience staring after him. For the first time Catherine understood why Mordin engaged in these conversations. He wanted, or maybe needed, to feel smaller. He needed to visualize a larger concept to shrink his perspective and not see the challenge in front of him as quite so daunting.

Or maybe it was just so he could feel smarter. Affirm his own intelligence. There was no doubt that he was the smartest person aboard the ship, but Catherine doubted he would be so superior, despite what Joker thought of him.

Regardless of the reason for these debates, Catherine found herself liking Mordin Solus immensely. She liked salarians in general, but he was something special. His zeal for life and learning and discovery was infectious. Catherine often snuck into medical to sit with Eve and just listen to him ramble.

He was an auditory learner and had perfected his method. What he voiced tended to be incomplete thoughts and half-finished sentences filled with scientific jargon. Most of the time she had no idea what he was talking about, but it was intriguing to listen to.

Shepard stayed on the planet for another two days after the turian platoon team was rescued. James itched to see more action, especially when they learned that there were Cerberus _and _Reaper forces on the planet. Catherine allowed him to give her several more lessons in hand to hand combat which invariably lead to more gratuitous sex, in the shuttle bay if they were alone, on the sub deck below engineering if they weren't. Several other affairs had sprung up through the ship and their dalliances had become less talked about.

Shepard returned to the ship long enough to trade out her weapons, equip different armour and collect James for a mission that remained clandestine. James returned from it angry and for the first time Catherine wasn't keen on being in his company. She sat by in the shuttle bay and watched while he and Garrus duked it out, both of them letting off steam while beating the other senseless.

Mordin announced that he was close to completing the cure and so Shepard stayed in the system for another few days while the salarian worked furiously. When he finally declared it finished, Shepard took Liara and James with her back down to the planet.

They planned to use something called The Shroud to release the cure into Tuchankas atmosphere, but to do so they would be facing off against a Reaper for the first time. No one knew how they were going to do it but their eventual solution was nothing short of brilliance.

Tuchanka was home to a beast known as a thresher maw. They were fiercely territorial and grew to unbelievable sizes. Shepard exploited this and against daunting odds managed to sic the beast on the Reaper destroyer guarding the Shroud facility.

The crew watched footage relayed to the ship from the shuttle and they cheered as the massive millipede like worm coiled itself around the Reaper and dragged it under the poisoned sand of Tuckanka.

The cure was released successfully and Wrex immediately began sending troops to aid the turians on Palaven. The crafty old krogan had already had his troops ready to mobilize. His faith in Shepard combined with Eve's trust in Mordin was the recipe for success and they had not failed.

The general elation aboard the ship was shattered however when Shepard returned without Mordin. With a cracking voice she informed the crew of the salarian's sacrifice in the Shroud. How he bravely gone to his death to ensure that the cure was released.

Many aboard took the news badly, but none more than Catherine. The night of Shepard's return she sat in the shuttle bay with James and Steve and wept until she almost threw up.

Neither of them men tried to comfort her with anything other than a sympathetic touch. There were no words to console her. James sat and rubbed soothing at her back while she sat with her head between her knees. When the tears finally stopped she leaned into him and wiped her eyes with the collar of his shirt.

"This is the first real loss of the war for me," she said, sniffing and rubbing at her red eyes.

"What about Earth?" Steve asked from his seat on a crate across from her.

"Earth kinda feels like Schrödinger's Cat," she said. "I've heard nothing about my mother or any of my friends. They could be dead or alive. But this... Mordin is the first casualty of this war that I knew personally."

"Yeah, I get that," James said, putting an arm around her and rubbing her shoulder briskly. "He was fucking weird, but he was a good guy."

"The pressure had to get to you eventually, Cat," Steve said with his trademark sad smile. "There's no shame in it."

Catherine shook her head sadly, "Another name for the wall."

"You know that wall isn't just a list of the dead," James said. "It's a wall of honour too. If I don't make it through this, I hope there's a wall just like it with my name on it."

"Better I think, not to have your name on any wall," Catherine said. Her heart ached for Mordin and the thought that James could very easily die every time he donned his armour didn't make her feel better.

"Don't worry, Catnip. I don't plan on going anywhere."

Despite her telling him to say nothing of her breakdown, James let it slip to Shepard who did for Catherine what she had done for Morgan. They were transiting back to the Citadel and the Commander told her she was relieved of duty until they shipped out again. It meant longer shifts for Catherine's subordinates, but they were happy to do it rather than risk having their chief burn out.

With Morgan on duty for the bulk of the short transit, Catherine spent the time with James. Their relationship had changed somewhat and instead of sneaking away to the subdeck, they spent most of the time merely in each other's company.

James had become reserved and thoughtful after receiving a message that he wouldn't share with Catherine and she was feeling serene in a sort of calm-before-the-storm kind of way. Neither of them were prepared for what they would encounter upon arriving at the station.

Cerberus had attacked the Citadel.

James was left aboard the Normandy to pace like a caged animal while Shepard, EDI and Liara fought their way through the station to rout the invaders. Catherine tried to calm James down but he was more riled than she had ever seen him.

She stood leaning on his workbench while he wore his boots down on the metal floor.

"Why didn't she take you?" Catherine asked, hoping that he would vent verbally.

"Because Liara is a biotic, EDI is a tech specialist and I'm just a soldier," he fumed.

"It's not an insult, Jimmy," Catherine said calmly. "She's a soldier herself so it makes sense that she would need their more specialized skills."

"I know, Catherine," he shouted. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"So, why does she only ever take two of you out at a time anyway?" Catherine asked.

"Because most of our missions rely a lot on stealth," James explained, stopping his pacing at last. "Three is just a good number for infiltration."

"But aren't you guys outnumbered most of the time?"

"Sure, but we're awesome." James gave her a small smile and leaned against the bench beside her. "A smaller team moves faster and is easier to co-ordinate on the field. And sometimes, if you're lucky, the enemy will underestimate you, giving you the edge you need to take them out."

Catherine didn't really understand the logistics of it. To her mind, superior numbers were the way to win, but she knew little of the strategies of war.

When they finally received word that Shepard had succeeded and Council was safe, they were still restricted from docking for another twelve hours while C-Sec secured the Persidium. When they were finally given leave, James and Catherine secreted their way down to the Wards in hopes of finding the Dragon's Tear still open, but the space it had occupied was empty of all evidence that it had ever existed.

They asked around in the neighbourhood but no one seemed to know where the old Japanese couple had gone. Some thought they might have left the station and tried to make it to some place called Sanctuary, supposedly a safe haven from the Reapers, but no one could tell them for sure.

The Persidium was a mess. The Keepers were out in force trying to restore order, but Cerberus had not been gentle and the recovery was slow going.

Disheartened by what they saw and both feeling fatalistic and melancholy, they sought somewhere to be alone with each other and their thoughts. James broke into a vacant apartment off Meridian Place and they spent several hours alternating between the bed and the shower, enjoying the freedom and the copious amounts of hot water.

Nothing about what they did in that apartment, passionate though it was, felt entirely right. They both acknowledged this, but neither could explain it. James said he felt like it was the eve of battle. A biting cocktail of fear, adrenaline and desperation. To Catherine it felt like an ending or a farewell. Not to their relationship or their friendship, but to what makes a person feel alive; emotion, sensation, love. Neither of them felt the feelings were caused by the other. It was simply something in the air.

They slept in a tangle of sheets and when Catherine awoke James was gone. He left a note but didn't say where he was, only that he would see her back at the Normandy later. She stayed in the apartment enjoying the silence and solitude until paranoia got the better of her and she cleaned up the space as best she could and left.

She returned to the ship with her head hung low and lost in her own thoughts. Joker tried to engage her in friendly banter but she didn't bite. She was pensive and feeling fearful, really thinking for the first time what would happen if they lost. The stakes had always been clear to her, but only then did she really start to feel the weight of them.

Perhaps it was seeing the perfection of the Persidium tarnished, or maybe it was not finding the Japanese couple, but Catherine had the distinct feeling that they had reached the beginning of the end. Hope was not dead, but it had been tempered by reality.

The ship was still empty for the most part as the crew took their shore leave, many of them indulging in the distractions the Persidium had to offer. Catherine stepped off the elevator on the crew deck to find an unfamiliar man standing with his back to her, contemplating the memorial wall.

He turned as the doors opened and his rich, brown eyes burrowed into her, causing a riot of memories to surface in a heartbeat.

"Major Alenko," she said with a salute. "Welcome to the Normandy."


	12. Chapter 12 Changing Relations

"Hey, Catnip."

Catherine turned away from the window to see James coming through the door to the port side lounge.

"EDI said you were hiding out in here," he said, coming to stand beside her at the window with his hands in his pockets. "We drinking?"

"I'm hardly hiding," she replied more testily than she'd intended. "No, we're not drinking."

She hugged herself a little more tightly around herself and stared back out the window. She was conflicted. James' company always made her feel better, but she didn't want to move or talk or look away from the window.

"You okay," he said softly, looking at her sideways, not quite turning his head from the view.

She exhaled deeply through her nose. No words came out. Her tongue felt like the dead weight of a fallen body. It pressed against her teeth and her jaw hung slack, her lips glued shut.

"Want me to go?" he asked.

She could hear the note of disappointment in his voice and she closed her eyes, feeling tears prickling. He turned and her arm shot out and she grabbed his wrist. Her head turned like a flower toward the sun and she offered him the warmest smile she could muster, which seemed to convey her affection and grief at once.

"Stay," she said.

James gave her a nod and turned back, standing shoulder to shoulder with her, not quiet touching, the sleeves of their shirts just brushing. For a long time he said nothing and she thought for a moment that he was lost in the dark labyrinth of his mind just as she was. His face was unreadable.

Ready to turn back to her silent and introspective meditation she looked back out at the void. She was wondering if the Reapers really would hunt them to the very last. The galaxy was a big place. So many worlds unexplored and unsettled. One person could easily hide them self away and escape the coming storm. She wondered what she would do if she could fly? Would she take a shuttle and run? Find one of those remote worlds and live out her days in peace, alone, but safe in the knowledge that she had escaped the Reapers?

"You sure we're not drinking?" James asked.

Catherine laughed, her shoulders shaking as she tried to resist to urge. She envied James. His ability to maintain the believe that they would prevail. Through thick and thin his faith in that belief never seemed to waver. Maybe it was because he had actually physically fought Reaper forces. He knew firsthand just what it took to take down a Reaper and so had a basis to judge the odds of their success.

"Can I be you for a while, Jimmy?" she asked, feeling true warmth flowing back into her body as she drew on his positive energy.

"You don't want to be me," he said, his mood suddenly diverting towards gloomy. But he smiled again before it could take hold. "I wanted to show you something. C'mere."

He waved her over to the couch and sat down sideway with his back to her. Tugging at his shirt he pulled it up and over his head, keeping it balled in one hammer like fist.

"Check it out," he said, gesturing to his back.

She came over the kneel behind him and looked down at his back. Between his shoulder blades, just above the triple slash marks to either side of his spine was a new tattoo. In a swollen, irritated patch about the size of her palm was the black and red N7 symbol.

"N7?" she said questioningly. "I didn't know you were a graduate."

"I'm not." He turned to face her but didn't put his shirt back on. "Not yet anyway. I'm a recruit."

"Holy crap, James," she exclaimed. "That's freakin' huge! I take it that means you accepted."

"Well, I can't really." He leaned back gingerly, easing his back down against the cushions.

"Why not?"

"You heard any official Alliance channels lately that I could go through?"

"I guess not, no," Catherine said. She sat back and stared at him. "You really think we're going back, don't you?"

"I sure hope so," he said emphatically. "This'll be a big waste of time if we don't. Besides, better to live in hope right."

Reaching out she ran a hand up his bare chest, taking in the smooth skin and radiating heat.

"Don't tell anyone about this though, okay?" James said. "I don't really want to advertise it yet."

"Jimmy, you got a tattoo on your back." She laughed and pulled her feet up on the couch and under her bum. "Someone is going to notice."

"Only if I take my shirt off, Catnip." Reach grabbed her round the waist and dragged her onto his lap. "So far you're the only one whose managed to get my clothes off."

He nuzzled at her neck and she closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of his lips brushing against her, but the sensation wasn't the same as before. She leaned into him, willing it to come.

"So, you sure you're okay, Catnip?" His voice vibrated across her skin.

"Just feeling a little fatalistic," she said. "Doomed maybe. Not like we're going to lose, but like nothing will ever be the same again."

"I don't think anything will be the same again."

Their eyes met and the tiny flame between them died. Catherine slid backwards onto the couch, her legs still over his lap and his arm still around her shoulder.

"Well, I know that," she said. "But I mean I don't think the galaxy is going to be run the way it was before. I think every race who helped in this war is going to want a seat on the Council. And I think they'll deserve it."

"What are you going to do when this is over?" James asked.

"I don't know." She sighed wistfully. "If there is a Earth to go back to I might go back to agriculture. We're probably going to have to start from the ground up and food is pretty high on the priority list for most people. What about you?"

"Going to start the N7 training," he said without a thought.

"Really? You won't want to just retire?"

"Hell no," he said ardently. "I'm a soldier. This is all I know. This and gambling."

"You do a few other things fairly well," she said with a look of adoration and fondness. "You're a good man, Jimmy. Don't sell yourself short."

"Thanks, Cat. You aren't half bad yourself." He was quiet for a moment and then said, "I, uh, feel like maybe we're not going to... relieve stress like we used to anymore."

Catherine had the same feeling. Like if they tried to take it any further they would either become fuck buddies or ruin their friendship entirely. She didn't want either of those things to happen and from the way James asked the question, Catherine got the impression that he was feeling the natural ending of their relationship as well.

"I'm not closed to it or anything," she said carefully. "It sort of feels like the right time to stop."

"Before it gets weird, right?" He nodded slowly in agreement and understanding.

"I think I still plan to use you as a mattress from time to time though," Catherine said. "Unfortunately the stress probably isn't going to go away."

"You're welcome to be my blanket any time, bonita. I'll probably still make you spar with me so it's only fair."

"You know," Catherine said suspiciously. "I feel like there has been a bit of a spark between you and Morgan."

James shrugged but said nothing.

"Jimmy, don't hold out on me." She gave him a slap to his still bare chest. "There is something isn't there?"

"She's cute. Really my type."

Catherine felt slightly taken aback, struck by the first hint of jealousy she'd felt regarding James.

"And what was I then? _Not _your type?"

"Easy there, Catnip. Different battles call for different weapons."

Catherine pulled her legs off his lap and scooted back to sit against the arm of the couch.

"I'm not entirely sure what that analogy is supposed to mean, James."

He unwound his shirt and pulled it back over his head, standing to tuck it into the waist of his pants. Sitting down heavily he turned his head to look at her.

"I'm not exactly a master of words or anything, Catherine. Cut me some slack," he said with annoyance. "I didn't mean you aren't my type. I meant that she is more my type for something more... romantic."

"Sorry," Catherine said repentantly. "Gut female reaction, you know."

"No worries," James leaned closer to her, her knees taking the weight of his body. "It was good while it lasted."

"You're still my rock, Jimmy." She put her hand on his large head and gave him a pat. "I've got to get back on duty now. Find me later."

He sat up and gave her a slap on the ass as she walked by him. Outside the lounge she told EDI that she was going to work from the life support deck rather than the CIC and the AI confirmed. Inside LS she leaned against the door and took a deep breath, trying to collect herself.

Her drive was gone. She felt no motivation, no will to continue. It all just felt so hopeless. Even with everything they had done, it didn't yet feel like they were nearing victory.

Pushing the feelings aside she went deeper into the room. To her surprise she found Commander Shepard sitting at the table in the back corner.

"I'm sorry, Commander," she said quickly. "I didn't realise you were in here. Should I leave?"

"No, it's alright, Hogan," Shepard said. She gestured to the chair across from her. "Have a seat."

Nervously, Catherine eased herself into the chair. She didn't know if she had walked in on the Commander or if Shepard had been waiting for her.

Shepard sat with her chin resting in one hand and her eyes downcast. Her dark hair fell across her face. Her shoulders were slouched and her body seemed heavy, defeated. She looked how Catherine felt.

"Are you okay, Commander?" Catherine asked carefully.

The Commander sighed and sat back in her seat. "Just thinking about a friend. Thane."

"The drell?" Catherine asked. She'd seen a news report about a Thane Krios who had saved the salarian councillor from an assassin. Liara had later told her that Krios had been a squad mate of Shepard's when she took out the Collectors.

"Thane was... a good friend."

The deep sadness on Shepard's face made Catherine's heart strings twang discordantly. This was the first time Catherine had seen her show just how much this war was getting to her. Her friends, those on her squad saw it, but for the rest of the crew she always showed a brave face.

"He had Kepral's Syndrome and was dying anyway," Shepard told her. "But this is worse. I thought I had more time."

"It's always hardest when they're taken from us suddenly," Catherine said.

"You were close with Mordin, weren't you?"

"I wouldn't say close, no," Catherine replied. "But I was fond of him. We had some good arguments."

Shepard gave a little laugh through her nose at that.

"To lose both of them so suddenly, so close together... I kept them alive through the Omega 4 Relay on what was supposed to be a suicide run. I feel like I failed them."

"You can't think that way, ma'am," Catherine said, reaching out to the Commander. She pulled her hand away at the last second. "Maybe the reason they survived was so that they could help you now. If you believe in that sort of thing, that is."

Shepard looked at her and the ghost of a smile haunted her lips for a moment.

"I don't know that I do believe in fate or destiny, but Thane did."

Catherine felt like Shepard was about to say more but the door hissed open and Major Alenko came around the corner.

"Sorry, Commander," he said, his voice like cool, silky waters. "Didn't realize you were busy. We'll talk later."

Shepard stood. "It's fine, Major. Carry on, Hogan."

The Commander walked away and Catherine couldn't help but see the way the Major's hand came up and touched the small of her back as she passed him. It wasn't the way one should be touching their direct superior.

Changing her mind all of a sudden, Catherine followed them out and went for the elevator. Maybe losing herself in her work on the CIC would help. Maybe there she would feel her usefulness return.

They were heading out to the far reaches of the galaxy, the Valhallan Threshold to be precise. Shepard had received intel that pointed to significant assets in that cluster and others in that galactic quadrant.

With no specific mission at hand, exploring was their best option. Shepard's luck never seemed to run out. The Reapers chased them, but never even got close to catching them. Cerberus plagued them, but Shepard thwarted them at every turn. Catherine should have felt better about their odds, but the attack on the Citadel was taking its toll on everyone.

Catherine buried herself into her work. For a week Joker hurled them through relay after relay, exploring the most remote and untouched systems. She saw little of James or other members of the crew. Working until she was half blind from exhaustion, she threw herself into a sleep pod for four or five hours at a time and slept the sleep of the dispirited.

They returned to the Citadel twice and both times James tried to get her to go with him, but she steadfastly refused. Morgan stayed with her on the ship, but they talked little and Catherine could feel her good nature and optimism slipping away from her.

When they set out from the Citadel again they were headed for the Far Rim and a rendezvous with the quarians who were apparently ready to talk. They arrived only to discover that they had made the imprudent decision to go to war with the geth and were engaged in all out hostilities above their home world of Rannoch.

Catherine had never seen a quarian before and felt her curiosity stir for the first time in weeks. She made sure she was in the CIC when the Admirals boarded and watched them as they carried themselves with a dignity and pride unlike any other species Catherine had seen.

She was surprised when Joker got out of his seat to greet and hug one of the quarians, a woman in a purple and gold suit with hips of the like Catherine had never seen before. Though the quarian spoke professionally and kept her distance after the initial embrace, Catherine could tell that she was thrilled to see Joker and the Normandy as well.

After a brief conference in the war room, Shepard had Joker fly them into the thick of the battle heading for dreadnought of immeasurable size and fortitude. Catherine barely had time to think before they were docking with the vessel and Shepard was on her way out to disable it.

As melancholy as she was, Catherine's need to question everything brought her to Liara's quarters to ask about the quarian Joker had so affectionately greeted.

Liara invited her in, not something Catherine had expected, though it didn't entirely surprise her now that the knowledge of Liara's covert actions were well known to the crew.

Catherine sat down on a couch like the ones in port observation and Liara sat down on the bed across from her.

"Thanks for letting me come in, Liara," Catherine said, trying to smile.

"You seem rather distant lately, Cat," Liara observed. "What's troubling you?"

"Same things as everyone else I expect." Catherine shrugged nonchalantly, hoping Liara wouldn't try to delve any deeper. "I actually just wanted to ask you about the quarians. I figured you would be the one to know about the woman in the purple and gold suit."

"Her name is Tali'Zorrah nar Rayya vas Neema, sometimes vas Normandy," Liara said. "She's been with Shepard since the beginning. Even longer than myself. Tali is a good friend."

"Joker sure seems to like her," Catherine said.

"Yes. Yes, he does," Liara said with a smile. "Tali is a clever, kind and compassionate woman. If she stays you should talk to her."

"I hope I get the chance. The quarians have always fascinated me," Catherine said. "What do the _nar _and _vas_ mean?"

"_Nar_ indicates the ship they were born on," Liara explained. "_Vas _is a title they earn after their pilgrimage and tells others which ship they are crew of."

Catherine had other questions she wanted to ask about the quarians, but she got so few opportunities to talk to Liara that she wanted to broach a subject that she didn't feel comfortable bringing up with anything else.

"Liara, I totally understand if you don't want to say anything about this, but I'm really curious." Catherine forced herself to make eyes contact with Liara, even though she was slightly afraid the asari would see the feelings beneath her veneer of gloom. "Major Alenko and the Commander... What's their relationship?"

Liara smiled gently and Catherine knew right away that Liara's intuition told her there was more to the question.

"Kaidan and the Commander have been something of an items for some time now. They became very close during our hunt for Saren. Why do you ask, Catherine?"

"Curious is all," Catherine said, trying to be casual. "Just noticed some more than friendly contact between them and wanted to know the story."

"Are you and James no longer an item?" Liara asked.

"Sadly that's over now," Catherine said with a sigh. "It came to its natural end and now we are just friends."

"Don't let yourself lose heart, Cat." Liara came and sat down on the couch beside her. "We have not lost yet."

Catherine thanked her for talking and left, heading for life support and the quiet isolation it offered. She wasn't on duty but sitting in the middle of a battle with the ships stealth capabilities active meant that every system required a little bit more attention than normal.

She was still there when Shepard returned to the ship in a geth fighter. The dreadnought exploded sending a shockwave through the inner solar system that buffeted the Normandy and sent more than one crew member to their knees as they struggled to keep up with Joker's wild piloting.

That night, while Shepard was in the war room plotting their next move, Catherine and Morgan went down to the shuttle bay together for the first time in days. James greeted Catherine as if nothing had changed between them and she was so happy to know that she still had him as friend that she nearly cried.

She and Morgan sat side by side on his cot while he did what was likely his third or fourth work out of the day. Catherine felt the need to finally vocalize what she'd been holding in for so long. How she knew Major Kaidan Alenko.

"It was almost twenty years ago," she said, looking out across the deck as she spoke, her eyes blank as her mind saw into the past. "My mum and I were in BC for the summer. We were staying in the interior where all the apple orchards are. I met Kaidan at the beach that day. He was such a show off too. I'd never had a boy pay so much attention to me."

James rolled his eyes. "Sounds like a sappy love story already."

"Shut it, James," Morgan said sharply. "I want to hear this."

"He invited me to come back to his uncle's place where he was staying, but my mum wouldn't let me go," Catherine continued. "She said I was too young to be alone with a boy. So I waited until she went to bed and I snuck out. I nearly didn't go. But even though I was two hours late he was still waiting for me."

Morgan gave a dreamy little sigh. "I'm already jealous. I don't have any stories like this. My first time was like having a live fish thrown at me. Lots of sloppy kissing and flopping around."

James snorted, but the two women ignored him.

"I didn't sleep with him, Morgan," Catherine said, slightly offended. "I was fourteen!"

Morgan blushed and looked away.

"Oh my god, Morgan," Catherine exclaimed. "You were fourteen?"

"Forget about me. Tell your story."

Filing that little tidbit away for later, Catherine continued.

"I stayed up almost all night with him. We sat on the roof and listened to classic Earth music that my dad used to listen to when I was little. It was warm and starry and beautiful and he was just so cute, I thought I was going to die from romance overload."

"I think _I _might die from romance overload," James said, grunting a he did one armed chin ups that neither woman was watching.

Catherine continued as if he hadn't spoken. "He was impressed when I knew the words to this old song. It was my dad's favourite and he used to play it on the guitar. There's not a lot I remember about my dad, but that song on the guitar is one of them. Anyway, when I was done singing he leaned over me and kissed me. It was my very first kiss and it was... Morgan, it was just magic. I compare kisses to that one to this day."

"And how did I stack up, Catnip?" James asked, winking at her around his punching bag.

"Different weapons, Jimmy," she said snarkily.

"Oh, it's that way is it?" he retorted.

Morgan looked between the two of them and asked, "What am I missing here?"

"Never mind," Catherine said with a wave of her hand. "So, that's my story. _Do not _breath a word of it to anyone else though. Seriously."

"Does he know it was you all those years ago?" Morgan asked, still absorbed by the story.

"No, and now that I know he and Shepard are a thing, I would rather he didn't remember," Catherine said, pointing at both of them and giving her sternest stare. "There's no reason he should remember it. He was sixteen at the time and I doubt I was his first or last kiss that summer. I don't really want to find out how unmemorable I was. Let me live with the fantasy."

Morgan promised right away, but James teased, drawing it out for as long as he could before Catherine jumped off the cot and lunged at him, threatening him with the worst purple nurple of his life if he didn't swear to keep his lips sealed.

In the end he promised and he and Catherine spent a night together for the first time in weeks. Something about that conversation had sparked their friendship alight again and she slept soundly and well finally, fully clothed and using his chest as a pillow.

They stayed in the orbit around Rannoch, Shepard ran several missions in an effort to aid the quarians, though she made no secret of the fact that she thought their war with the geth was folly. She even had a geth aboard the ship. EDI said its name was Legion, and Catherine tried desperately to gain access to the war room so that she could meet him, but she didn't get a chance before he left the ship for the last time.

They were there for days before Shepard was finally able to take her squad out and bring an end to the war. Catherine was on the bridge with Joker and EDI when the shit all hit the fan on Rannoch and they found another Reaper destroyer guarding a geth facility.

Having a thresher maw do the dirty work was one thing, but what Shepard did on Rannoch, Catherine was left thinking about for days...


	13. Chapter 13 A Triumph

Catherine let herself onto the bridge followed by James. Joker's hands were a flurry of motion as he flew the Normandy through the thick of the battle. Shepard voice could be heard buried in static. EDI was patched into her helmet mic and was listening to their progress through the geth base.

"What's going on?" Catherine asked, bracing herself on the back of Joker's chair.

"The Commander just fought off a wave of Primes," Joker shouted over the battle noise. "Tali took a hit in the leg, but she says she's okay. They're about to target the Reaper station."

"Can we get a visual," James asked.

"Not yet," EDI said. "We've had to manoeuvre quite a bit to stay out of the battle. Thirty second to a live feed."

They waited with bated breath until an image finally appeared on the screen at the top of Joker's display. It was a grainy, composite image put together from LADAR scans, but it was reasonably easy to understand what they were looking at.

The geth base was huge and Shepard had fought her way through all of it, all the way to the sinkhole where the Reaper signal was coming from. The roof over the massive chamber was open revealing a glowing red light. It was impossible to tell just what it was.

Shepard was clearly visible standing at the edge of a platform that jutted out over the space. Kaidan and Tali stood a little ways back from her, the Major supporting the quarian with one arm.

"Normandy's weapons systems are ready to synch to your target," EDI said to Shepard over the comm. "I recommend you withdraw to a safe distance."

With the targeting laser braced firmly against her shoulder, Shepard pulled the trigger and EDI immediately began to zero in on the generator. Joker put the ship into a steep dive

"Target locked," she said, her voice frighteningly calm.

Catherine's stomach lifted into her throat as Joker pulled out of the dive and EDI dropped an entire payload into the sinkhole. She was aware of James hand on her shoulder, gripping her tightly as they waited to see the result.

The station exploded, sending a gout of flame and a plume of smoke into the air. Joker already had the ship back in a close orbit and EDI was showing a new image of the site. The ledge Shepard had been on was gone and the Commander and her team were not visible. The image began to shake, blurring with the vibrations.

"EDI, what is that?" Joker said desperately. "Can we clean it up?"

"It is not me, Jeff," EDI replied. "Something is happening on the planet."

"An earthquake?" Catherine suggested. "Did we hit a magma pocket?"

"No." EDI's voice was grim. "It's a Reaper."

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," Joker hissed. "A whole Reaper underground? That's some kind of sick irony. Bury one on Tuchanka and one pops up here."

"Legion had acquired transport," EDI declared. "The Reaper is chasing them."

"If we can't take that thing out, the quarians are going to get smeared," James said as Joker steered the ship closer to the planet to get them a better view.

"No shit, Vega," Joker snapped at him.

Shepard opened a channel to the entire fleet and called for an orbital strike on the Reaper clawing its way across the planet after her. The quarians let loose on it and managed a direct hit on the machine's firing chamber. The Reaper fell, but the strike was not fatal.

"Shepard has stopped," EDI said.

"What!" Catherine swore. "She's going to take that thing on on foot?"

James laughed aggressively. "Mono-et-mono with a fucking Reaper! Damn I wish I was down there."

"EDI," Shepard voice echoed through the cabin. "Patch the quarians in to the Normandy's weapons systems. I want the targeting laser synched up to the whole damn fleet."

"Understood," EDI confirmed and sent out the signal slaving the quarian ships to her control.

When the fleet understood what was happening they let down their firewalls and gave EDI full access. Catherine wanted to cover her eyes and wait until it was over, but morbid curiosity kept her gaze fixed on the screen above.

Shepard was dwarfed by the Reaper and yet she stood her ground, aiming the targeting laser as the machines massive frontal plates withdrew exposing the firing chamber beneath.

"The destroyer is in range." The fear and adrenaline in EDI's voice was unmistakable. "Missiles are ready for launch."

The first strike did almost nothing. The plating closed and Reaper plodded steadily forward. The second strike staggered it but it recovered quickly and fired at Shepard with its scorching energy beam.

They couldn't tell if Shepard was still alive until the signal came through again and they narrowed their aim on the Reaper's firing chamber. The third hit nearly brought it down, but it staggered on, moving faster now, desperately taking aim at Shepard.

A forth hit and still the Reaper continued towards her. It was standing right over her, the glow of it's priming weapon illuminating the bare rock of planets surface, when the final strike came.

Explosions blossomed around the Reaper and red tendrils of electricity arced and coiled around it's huge, insectoid legs. It crashed to the ground, a cloud of dust and debris obscuring the view from above.

Joker whooped and pumped his first in the air. EDI grinned at them, her silvery artificial teeth glinting in the orange lights of the bridge.

"Holy hell, we fucking did it!" James pounded his fist into the palm of his hand and grabbed Catherine around the waist, pulling her up to plant a kiss on her.

She returned it with glee, feeling joy come flooding back into her heart for the first since Tuchanka.

"Wait!" EDI cried. "It's still alive. Listen."

A metallic voice boomed into the bridge, shaking the air and making Catherine's teeth ache.

"Shepard," it ground out. It was the Reaper.

"I didn't know they could talk," Catherine breathed, fear turning her insides to liquid.

"You know who I am?" Shepard said, her voice small after the thunder of the Reaper's.

"Harbinger speaks of you. You resist, but you will fail. The cycle must continue."

"What are talking about?" Shepard demanded.

"How is she not quaking in her boots?" Catherine whispered.

"We stopped Sovereign and the geth," Shepard continued. "We stopped Harbinger and the Collectors. We've earned a straight answer."

"It is not a fate you can comprehend." Catherine's focus seemed to waver in and out as the Reaper spoke.

"We might surprise you," Shepard come back with.

"You represent chaos," it said. "We represent order. Every organic civilisation must be harvested in order to bring order to the chaos. It is inevitable. Without our intervention, organics are doomed. We are your salvation."

"You're killing everyone in the galaxy to save us?" Shepard spat.

"The cycle must continue. There is no alternative."

"Organics and synthetics don't have to destroy each other."

"The battle for Rannoch disproves your assertion. Finish your war. We will be waiting."

There was silence for a moment before Tali's voice could be heard faintly through Shepard's mic. Catherine couldn't quite hear what she said but EDI's synthetic ears could.

"It's dead," she told them.

Catherine wilted in relief, her body sagging back into James. He put his arm around her shoulders and she rest her chin on him, slipping her hand into his as she did.

"Another one down," Joker said, slouching in his seat.

"It's not over yet," EDI said. "The quarians are regrouping. They intend to attack the geth."

"I think those suits must be too tight," Joker said contemptuously. "Cutting off blood flow to their brains."

"All ships, this is Commander Shepard," her voice came through the comms again. "The Reaper is dead. Stand down."

"This is Admiral Tali'Zorah," the quarians voice came next and Joker sighed with relief to hear her safe and alive. "Shepard speaks with my authority."

"And mine as well," came another accented voice that Catherine thought was Admiral Koris.

"Negative!" Han'Garrel shouted. "We can win this war now. Keep firing."

"The geth are about to return to full strength," Shepard shouted. "If you keep attacking, they'll wipe you out. Your entire history is you trying to kill the geth. You forced them to rebel. You forced them to ally with the Reapers. The geth don't want to fight you. If you can believe that for just one minute, this war will be over. You have the choice. Please. Keelah se'lai."

The was a long pause and static filled the bridge. Out the front viewports they could see the two fleets edging ever closer to each other. Finally Garrel's voice could be heard once more.

"All ships. Hold fire."

"Oh my god, she did it again," Joker said in disbelief.

"Sorry, just we're clear here," Catherine said. "Did Shepard just end the war between the geth and the quarians?"

"Oh no," EDI said softly. "Legion."

"What?" Joker said quickly. "What happened?"

EDI rose from her seat and faced them, "Legion sacrificed itself to upload the Reaper code to the rest of the geth. It is... dead."

"Reaper code?" James said with little sympathy in his voice. "I thought Shepard just got rid of all that?"

"The code allows the geth to attain full AI consciousness," EDI explained. "The code is advanced, but does not give the Reapers control over the geth."

Joker reach out and brushed his fingers against EDI's.

"You alright?" he asked softly.

"No, Jeff. I am not," EDI replied. "Legion was... my friend."

Catherine stepped forward and put her arms around the AI. EDI seemed surprised by the gesture at first but after a seconds thought raised her arms and embraced Catherine in return.

Her body was surprisingly warm to the touch. Catherine knew EDI had a grip that could crush bones, but her arms were tender around her and she rested her head against Catherine's for a moment before pulling away.

"Thank you, Catherine," she said, her voice neutral again. "Your sympathy is appreciated."

Shepard sent a message up to say she would be staying down on the planet for another day at least. She asked Doctor Chakwas to come down to help see to the medical needs of the quarians being offloaded from the civilian ships. The rest of the crew was left free to celebrate as they saw fit.

Only essential staff remained on duty; those monitoring the war room transmissions, LADAR scans, and in system radio chatter. EDI took over the rest of the systems so that the crew could congregate in the mess hall.

Garrus went around with a bottle of some unidentified alcohol, making people tip their heads back so he could waterfall in into their mouths. He carried his own bottle in his other hand and took a swig from it every time he someone else drank.

The mood on the ship was merry again at last. They finally had another victory under their belts and could return to the Citadel triumphant. Kaidan and Tali returned to the ship to a chorus of cheers and congratulations. Drinks were trust into their hands immediately and they joined in the celebrations.

When Shepard returned to the ship the morning of the next day cycle the duty roster was decided based on who had least severe hangover. This thankfully left Catherine to recover in peace.

Riding the high of elation, she and James were in the lounge taking turns losing to Garrus at poker when Kaidan wandered and took a seat to watch the action, which was mediocre at best as Garrus stripped Catherine of another small pile of credits.

"You might as well just give me all your money now, Cat," he teased. "And you should be glad we aren't playing strip poker."

"You're bluffing this time, turian," she said with narrowed eyes. "You can't fool me."

"He has the last eight hands, Catnip," James put it. "Why should this time be any different?"

"Shut it, Vega." She threw a peanut from the bowl in front of her at him and he ducked. "You're losing too. You don't get an opinion."

"All right, Hogan," Garrus said. "Show your cards."

Catherine laid her cards out on the table with a smug grin on her face.

"Read 'em and weep, Vakarian. Full house."

Garrus tossed his cards on the table for all to see. "Straight flush."

"What!" Catherine shouted.

James burst out laughing and Kaidan snickered behind his hand.

"That's it," Catherine pushed away from the table and leaned across the table to point in Garrus' face. "You're a goddam thief and a cheat."

The grin didn't leave her face as she went around the table to dumped the last of her poker chips in Garrus' lap.

"I won fair and square, Cat," Garrus said, waving an admonishing finger at her. "Don't be a poor sport."

"I'll poor sport you, Garrus. Next time we dock, come to Purgatory and we'll settle this at the bar."

Garrus turned and nudged James. "I think she's hitting on me. I knew she'd come to her senses eventually."

"She's a sucker for a good scar," James said. "Sorry Kaidan, you have to get a few more before she'll even look at you."

"The Major hasn't swindled me out of all my credits," Catherine said with a laugh. "I'll look at him over you two jerks any day."

"You're always welcome to earn them back." James leaned back in his chair and patted his leg, winking at her. "Haven't had a quality lap dance in a while."

"In your dreams, Vega," she said and walked away from the games table.

"Every night, baby," he called after her.

She flopped down on a couch and stuck her arm up in the air to give him the finger. Garrus laughed and threw a fifty credit chip across the room at her.

"Just 'cause I like you, Cat."

"I've missed this," Kaidan said, still chuckling. "Wish I knew the crew better. Feeling a little isolated to be honest."

"Gotta spend more time down here with us and less time up in the clouds with the Commander," James said. Catherine could hear him shuffling the deck and dealing them out again.

"Shepard and Alenko have lost time to make up for," Garrus said. "Being dead for two years really takes a toll on your sex life."

"Okay. Okay," Kaidan said. "Let's not discuss this."

"C'mon, Kaidan," James said in mock pleading. "None of us are getting any. We're living through you now."

"That's not what I've heard," Kaidan retorted.

Catherine froze and waited to hear what the reply would be from James. She'd never expressly asked him not to say anything, but some part of her didn't want Kaidan to know. It certainly wasn't shame, but Kaidan was straight laced and by the book she felt like he might judge her for it and she didn't want that.

"Just what have you heard?" Garrus asked.

"You know," Kaidan replied. "The usual scuttlebutt. There's always an affair of some kind happening on a ship."

Catherine relaxed and sent a silent thank you to James and Garrus for keeping quiet. She let herself sink into the couch and listened to the men at their game. Her hangover was manifesting as exhaustion rather than a headache or any of the other more unpleasant options.

After their significant victory on Rannoch, she was feeling much more herself. Feeling like they actually had a chance. She began to realize that though their losses might have made things feel like defeat, they weren't.

Shepard had kicked the Cerberus bastards off the station and killed off many of their best troops. And with the N7 teams spread out across the galaxy fighting them on many fronts, the terrorist had to be losing numbers fast.

And then there was Udina. Somehow the man's betrayal had not come as a surprise. He'd never been the sort of man anyone expected to be on the Council. He had been harsh and rigid in his belief that humanity deserved more. It had not exactly ingratiated them to the other species.

The one thing that could said about him was that he supported Shepard. But she hadn't hesitated to shoot him dead. Catherine didn't know the whole story, but she knew that Shepard had taken the shot and ended the traitorous man's life.

Lying there on the couch, Catherine tried not to think about all the various difficult thoughts that had plagued her in the weeks since leaving the Citadel last. She tried not to think about Mordin and the void he left on the ship, short though his time there had been.

She'd heard through the grapevine that Shepard had had word through Hackett that her mother was safe, and that lit a spark of hope in Catherine that maybe her own mother was alive as well.

The men were speaking in low tones and the pulse of the ships engines was rhythmic, like a heartbeat, and soon Catherine was asleep. She didn't awake until she felt something thump down on her chest. Opening her eyes she found all three men standing over her. On her chest was a stack of poker chips that valued at least half of what she'd lost to Garrus.

"You owe James and Kaidan," Garrus said grumpily.

"Huh?" Catherine sat up, holding the chips against herself with one hand.

"We played in your name," Kaidan said with a boyish smirk.

"Both of you?" she asked.

"Yup," James said. "Now you have to buy us drinks."

"You both played for me and you only won back half?"

Garrus laughed loudly and slapped both men on the back. "I hadn't thought of that."

"And of course, what I meant by that was thanks," Catherine amended giving them a look of appreciation. "I'll definitely buy you both drinks. Not you though, Vakarian. You're still a pirate."

"I've been called worse," he said with a shrug while James and Kaidan chuckled at his expense.

When they docked at the Citadel Shepard addressed them all over before allowing them to take their leave.

"We're the face of the war everyone. We can't be seen to be down trodden or defeated. These people have seen enough of that. Part of our job is to bring them hope. You all know what's classified and what isn't. Talk up our victories. Be upbeat, be positive, and most of all stand proud. We need long recruiting lines, but more than anything, we need the support of the people. Be good everyone."

It was apparent within minutes of leaving the ship that things had changed. Security had increased dramatically and the scans were even more lengthy and intrusive at every entry and exit port. Even the elevators now had guards.

Shepard's influence had spurred the creation of a civilian militia and every person with any degree of weapons training and credibility was now part of it. They received black arm bands and patrolled their own neighbourhoods and all the places C-Sec couldn't, like the restaurants, shops and theatres.

People still went on living, but there was a palpable tension in the air. Though the Keepers were working away at the damages caused by the running gun battle Shepard and Cerberus had had through the Persidium, the evidence was still obvious in many places. Several places on the Citadel still smoked from time to time as fires thought to be extinguished relit suddenly. Keeping the peace _and_ cleaning up the mess was proving to be too much for the wounded entity of Citadel Security.

Yet Purgatory seemed unchanged when Catherine arrived there with Morgan. She was dressed more for drinking than dancing in tight jeans, a transparent silk top and low heeled sandals. She was more clothed than most of the women there and her abundance of cover actually drew more stares than the skimpy outfit that Morgan wore.

She fended off several advances in the first few minutes they were there and as men and women alike realized she wasn't in the market for a partner they stopped approaching her.

Joker and EDI were already at the bar and Catherine started her night with them. EDI was still working to understand precisely what made an individual attractive and was naming people for Joker to judge.

The game was highly amusing and Catherine spent more time laughing than she did drinking. She gladly left the table when Garrus and James arrived to collect on their drinks. With their credit from Aria Catherine didn't actually pay for the drinks but they pretended she had. They talked loudly about the geth and the addition of their fleet to the war effort.

People flocked around them to ask questions and listen to the stories of their battles. The footage of the Reaper on Rannoch was leaked to Citadel News and people became desperate to talk to anyone on the Normandy's crew.

James and Garrus didn't stay long. They were headed down to the holding areas where refugees were being housed. The turian had people from Palaven to look in on and James had loses to recover from the last time he'd gambled with the huddled masses. Catherine suspected he lost on purpose and it was his was of donating money to the cause.

Soon, Morgan had Catherine on the dance floor despite her protestations. The music had taken on a darker tone in the club, it rhythms more jarring and violent. It was hard to dance to and was a drain on Catherine's good humours.

She dropped Shepard's name at the bar and got the attention of the manager. Not long after the music changed and became more upbeat. Catherine ordered a round of drinks for everyone on the dance floor and the mood changed drastically in mere minutes.

Feeling like she'd achieved something, Catherine left Morgan dancing with a devilishly attractive marine and made her way unsteadily toward the exit. It was her first time out drinking without James and she wanted to quit while she was ahead and get back to the ship before she was too drunk to walk straight.

Halfway back she was forced to take a detour because the pedway leading through Shanta Market had been blown away. The area it lead her through was narrow and not well lit. There were few people around and before she was two minutes into her detour Catherine began to feel nervous.

The feeling that she was being followed was intense, yet she turned around several times to find nothing amiss, nothing out of the ordinary. Being unfamiliar with that area of the Persidium, Catherine didn't think to look up at the Keeper walkways.

She turned a blind corner to find her way blocked by a stack of crates. Confused, she turned around, wondering if maybe she had missed a detour sign at some point. When a figure dropped down in front of her she knew right away that she was in trouble.

"Stuck now, little lady," the man said menacingly. "I know you've got credits. I want them. All of them."

"Fine," Catherine said, reaching into her pocket for her credit chit. "Take them."

The man stepped into the feeble light of a flickering holographic add and Catherine could see that he was well dressed and clearly not in need of money. That was when arms went around her from behind, pinning her to the chest of an asari.

"She's a pretty one," the asari said, her mouth far too close to Catherine's ear. "Sure you don't want something more?"

"That, my dear, is a very good idea."

Catherine struggled, using all the tricks James had taught her but the asari's grip was crushing and she could not break free. As the man got closer, reaching for his belt and undoing a button on his pants with every step, the asari twisted and threw Catherine to the ground.

Her head slammed down on the floor with a crack and the air was knocked from her lungs. Gasping and still fighting the asari, Catherine kicked her legs out at the man who she could only barely see past the women who was leaned over her to pin her arms at her sides.

The man's pants flapped open at the waist and he leaned over to rip her bottoms off. Her legs were still free and she kicked out at him but there was little force behind the blows as she could get no leverage from the floor.

He squatted over her, grinning nastily and tapped none too gently at her cheek.

"Don't worry," he said with soft menace. "It'll all be over soon. Then it will be her turn."

Fear rocketed through Catherine's veins and she began to buck and writh on the floor, trying to throw him off her, hoping someone would come along and find the crime taking place.

The couple laughed at her efforts and she found her anger clawing its way up from the vault she'd locked it away in. Adrenaline cast a haze of crimson over her eyes and she managed to tear her right arm away from the asari.

Just as James had taught her about close quarters combat, she put all of her strength into one punch and ploughed her close fist into the centre of the man's chest. He slapped her hard across the face and Catherine felt the sharp, stinging tear of her lip splitting open.

She flailed her hand, keeping it out of the asari's grasp and struck out at the man again. This time she hit him in the hip and something exploded from within his pocket. A cloud of red enveloped them, but the bulk of the sandy substance fell onto Catherine's face, into her eyes, nose and mouth, blinding and choking her.

She coughed and rubbed frantically at her eyes until the asari grabbed her hand again and slammed it down on the floor with bone breaking force. Catherine shriek in agony as pain shot up her arm.

"You stupid little bitch," the man growled at her. "You just cost me five hundred credits. Now we're going to make it last."

Catherine's vision began to swim as tears ran down her face carrying away the grains of the red substance. Her skin lit up like a brand had been laid against it and she screamed as the man tore at her pants.

And then she felt something she hadn't felt in years. The eezo nodules in her body begin to activate until a blue glow surrounded her. She could hear the asari questioning the man, asking if it was still a good idea. A rough hand went behind her head and felt the back of her skull.

"No implant," she heard him say. "She won't be able to do more than give me better light to see the look on her face while she begs me to stop."

She pushed her head back on the ground and she heard the thud as she impacted but felt nothing. Focussing on the nodules she could feel igniting she called on the power lying dormant in her body. Lying still and letting them think she was no threat, she gathered the power into herself until her whole body crackled with it.

As the man finally managed to get her pants down and tossed them away over his shoulder, she released the energy. A blinding pulse of energy exploded out from her, tossing the attackers like ragdolls.

The man flew back down the corridor and skidded across the floor. The asari had no time to bring up a barrier and was slammed into the crates blocking the passage. They toppled down atop her and Catherine heard her screams as one landed on her leg.

The man was already trying to lift himself up. Catherine hauled herself to her feet, her vision wheeling and her body refusing to respond to the most simple of commands.

She managed to get her feet under herself and tried to run, but her legs were like rubber. Her shoulder hit the wall and she dragged herself along, her shirt catching and ripping as it snagged on the metal.

When she reached the corner, the man was on his feet. His nose was dripping with blood and his arm was clearly broken. It dangled uselessly at his side and yet still he staggered towards her screaming words that Catherine could barely hear over the pounding of her own heart.

Crying in pain and desperation she pushed herself on around the corner only to find the way blocked by a huge and heavily muscled body.

She broke down and fell to her knees, pain igniting in her broken wrist as she tried to slow her landing. Her stomach churned and she threw up, expelling everything she'd eaten and drunk that night. It splashed onto her arms and she fell to her side and curled into a ball as the world spun around her.

There was a sickening crunch and more cries of agony and through the fog of pain she realized that someone was attacking the man with brutal efficiency. They were back lit and her inability to focus her eyes made it impossible to tell who her saviour was.

The new arrival lifted then man right off the ground and tossed him aside where he lay still at last. The big man then turned around and crouched beside Catherine. He leaned in close, saying something that she couldn't hear, but as his face got closer she was finally able to make out his features. The wide jaw and heavy brow, warm eyes and fauxhawk.

"James." Her throat was raw and burned as the words came out.

Her eased her up gently and sat her against the wall.

"What the hell happened to you, Catnip?" He spoke softly but his voice boomed in her ears.

He pulled off the light jacket he was wearing and brushed at her face with it, the caked substance coming away in chunks.

"Shit, Cat," he said, worry riddling his voice. "You're completely fucking sand blasted. We gotta get you outta here."

He eased his arms under her and lifted her effortlessly. She coughed and gagged, her whole body sore and limp as he hurried back down the corridor. There were voices ahead and James responded, getting into an elevator with a turian who was carrying a side arm in his hand.

They left the elevator and Catherine could hear the pounding of music and the saw the flash of light before she finally gave in and passed out completely.


	14. Chapter 14 Recovery

Something struck her face. Not hard, but enough to wake her up.

"Cat, wake up," a voice said loudly. "You have to wake up."

Her eyes opened but she couldn't see anything. Or rather she could but it was blurred and spinning.

"She's awake," the voice said. Catherine thought it was James, but she couldn't be sure. The voice seemed to reverberate and resound between her ears.

Her back and neck ached. Sharp pains shot up and down her spine and her hands and feet tingled with a million pins and needles. She tried to roll on her side, tried to turn her head, do something to undo the knots in her body, but she felt like she was underwater.

There was a smell in the room, like stale beer and lilies, and it made Catherine want to throw up again. She gaged, her whole body flexing. Her chest burned with every reflex of her body. Hands were on her again, turning her on to her side just in time for her to heave again and spew vomit everywhere.

There was a moaning sound and Catherine realized it was coming from her. The fabric surface under her face was wet with tears as she sobbed in agony. There seemed to be voices all around her. One of them was furious, on the brink of yelling. The other was a flanged voice, deep and calm, and Catherine vaguely remembered seeing a turian.

"Garrus?" she tried to say, but she bit her tongue and blood flowed, its metallic taste making her gag again.

The voices came closer and a cool hand came down on her forehead.

"She's burning up. Is there a shower or a tub in here?"

"Through that door," the turian voice said. "Clean her up. I'll take care of this room. We'll send someone for her wrist too."

"Thanks."

Strong arms lifted her off her bed and her world spun as she was carried away from the sweet and sour stink. Bright light burned her eyes and she had a brief image of tiled walls before something cool and wet was put over her eyes and forehead.

The floor came up to meet her and the sound of falling water began. There was a loud rip and she felt her shirt coming away. She tried to lift her arm to help and pain flared in her wrist again.

"It's okay, Catnip. Don't move."

A shiver of shock and cold rippled through her setting her teeth chattering. The tears began again and her throat constricted until it became difficult to draw breath.

"C'mon. Let's get you cleaned up."

Limp and unable to make her body do anything she wanted, Catherine could only go along with it as James picked her up and carried her under the steady flow of warm water.

He lowered them both to the ground and sat against the wall letting Catherine sit between his legs and lean back against his chest. Tipping her head back he told her to open her eyes and let the water wash them out.

She did as she was told and the water sluiced down her face, cooling her stinging eyes. James' hand stroked at her hair, scraping the clumped sand out of it.

After a few minutes of this her vision slowly returned and she could see that they were in a large shower stall with tiled walls and floor and clear sliding glass doors. The only light in the space came from a strip of glowing blue above that cast no shadows and didn't hurt her eyes.

"Drink some water."

Catherine opened her mouth and let some of the water sprinkle down on her tongue. Her teeth were gritty and the taste of vomit, metal and chemical made her gag again. Tipping over James' thigh she vomited again but this time there was only the water she had just swallowed.

She continued to dry heave, her whole body convulsing while James rubbed her back. When the heaving stopped he pulled her back upright and she sagged back against him crying again.

He told her to keep drinking and though she didn't want to she did and this time managed to keep it down. Her throat felt less raw and she tried to speak but it came out like a raspy hiss.

"I'm sorry, James."

"Listen to you," he said gently. "Crap beaten out of you, dusted all to hell, and apologising to me. You got nothin' to be sorry for, Catnip."

"I threw up on you," she moaned.

"Worse things have happened," he responded simply. "Are you warm enough?"

She nodded.

"We gotta this crap off you," James said. "Can you stand up?"

"Not on my own."

James hands went under her arm pits and he pushed himself up with his powerful legs and turn her around to face him. She slouched into him and he supported her with one arm around her waist while the other used a cloth to wipe down her back and shoulders.

"Why is this happening?" she said with a little sob. "What was that stuff?"

"Red sand," James said with clipped words. "Fucker who attacked you was probably a dealer."

"This is a drug? Why would anyone do this to themselves?"

"Nobody would do this intentionally," James said as he stood back to run the cloth down her front, under each breast and into her belly button. "You were pretty damn close to an overdose."

Her knees buckled and he caught her before she toppled, holding her to him again. His movements were methodical but tender as he continued to wipe away all traces of the drug on her skin.

"What happened, Cat?" he asked.

"I think they blocked the path," she slurred. "They cornered me. He was going to rape me. I punched him and this red stuff went everywhere."

"That explains it. It got right into your blood," James said. He sounded calm, but under it there was a vein of fury that made Catherine quiver. "Let's get you dry and warm."

He shut the water off and slid the door open. Catherine tried to step with him but her leg wobbled and her picked her up again and set her down on a bench against the opposite wall. Wrapping a huge white towel around his own waist, he grabbed another and began to pat her dry.

He started at her feet and worked his way up, dabbing carefully at her broken wrist and rubbing her hair only gently. Lifting her again he got the towel most of the way around her and carried her out of the bathroom.

The adjacent room no longer stank. Catherine could see now that it was a small, windowless apartment. There was a holoscreen against one wall and a large bed opposite it. In the far wall was another door and a couch beside it where a turian sat watching them, one leg resting casually on the other.

"We're good," James said to him.

The turian nodded and rose. "Doctor's outside when you're ready."

James thanked him and the turian left. The bed was freshly made and James tucked a foot under the edge of the covers and flipped them back. He lay Catherine down as carefully as he could and then eased the towel out from under her.

He knelt beside the bed and Catherine rolled her head to the side to look at him. She was crying again as the pain in her back intensified.

"Why does everything hurt?" she begged to know.

"Red sand stimulates the nervous system," he told her. "Your spinal cord is taking the brunt of it. You ready for a doctor?"

She nodded and he reached out the brush his thumb under her eyes, wiping away the wetness there. He gave her a kiss on the forehead and stood. He tapped the security panel on the door and a pale grey salarian bustled into the room.

Without a word to James the salarian came to her side and picked up her arm, thankfully her left, and gripped her wrist between two fingers.

"Pulse is very fast. Too rapid. No temperature, but likely going into shock."

"You're just like Mordin," Catherine said, bursting into fresh tears.

The salarian lowered her arm and looked at her face for the first time. "Professor Mordin Solus? You knew him?"

Catherine was too choked up to answer so James stepped in. "He was on our ship for a while. They got along pretty well."

"Assumed you were just another junkie," the salarian said with a frown. "Knew Professor Solus well. Worked in his clinic on Omega."

Now the salarian knelt down beside her and took her hand in both of his. "Don't worry. I will take good care of you."

Catherine could only nod and the salarian put her hand down softly on the bed. He gingerly lifted her other arm and probed the injury carefully. Catherine whimpered but didn't cry out despite the pain. He followed with a quick scan of his omnitool and then sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Definitely broken," he said. "But not severely. Should heal quickly with an injection of a growth hormone. Otherwise, will have to give you a cast for up to three weeks."

Catherine's mind was beginning to drift. She looked to James and he said hormone and she nodded. The salarian reached down to the bag he'd carried in and pulled out a syringe and a clear glass bottle.

"This will hurt," he said sympathetically, looking at her with his big black eyes and then back up at James. "It would be best if you could hold her still."

James crawled over her to the other side of the bed and lay down beside her, putting one leg over hers and his arm over her chest.

The salarian picked up her arm again and sterilize the skin in the centre of the top of her wrist. He then took up the needle and held it over the spot and looked to James. Catherine was barely aware of what was happening.

"Do it," James said.

The salarian didn't hesitate. The needle came down and drove into her skin. Awareness flooded back into Catherine and it hadn't been for James's arm pinning her down she would have pulled away from the needle.

"Ow ow ow," she said over and over as the doctor pushed down on the plunger, forcing the solution of medigel and growth hormone into the flesh around the broken bone.

It seemed to take forever but finally he pulled the needle out and let her hand fall back to her chest. Reaching into his bag he pulled out a coiled bandage and began wrapping it tightly around her wrist, forearm and hand until she was unable to bend it.

"Keep the bandage in place for at least forty eight hours," he told her. "Should be fine after that, but be careful with it for a week."

"She's got a pretty nasty bump on the back of her head," James said. "Can you check for a concussion."

The salarian pulled out a small penlight from a pocket and shone it in her eyes. She flinched away, but he held her chin and forced her to look at him.

"Pupils massively dilated. Likely side effect of the drug. I assume exposure was... accidental?"

"Yeah," James replied. "She was attacked."

"Concussion possible, but little to be done. Sleep best thing for her now."

James and the salarian talked for a while more, but Catherine was beginning to drift off as the pain in her back lessen as the medigel began to take effect. Her entire body ached still. A fog was creeping over her mind and when the bed shifted slightly under her she realized she had been asleep.

The salarian was gone and James was climbing under the blankets with her. Her was wearing his boxers and nothing else. He lay on his side with one arm under the pillow beneath her head and the other resting over her protectively.

"Thank you, James," she mumbled, her voice barely audible.

"No worries, Catnip," he rumbled. "Go to sleep."

"Don't tell anyone about this," she tried to say, but her lips were sticking together.

"I won't, but the bruise and cut on your face are going to be tough to hide," he said, shifting a little to get comfortable. "We'll tell people about the attack. That'll explain all the injuries."

Catherine mumbled that she didn't even want the rest of the crew to know about that.

"There's no shame in any of this, Cat," James said. "They're going to want to know what happened to you."

She wanted to argue more. She wanted to tell James that she would come up with her own story. But her body was succumbing to exhaustion and shock and she was passing out.

"Just sleep," James was saying. "You'll feel a helluva lot better when you wake up."

Catherine woke to the sound of voices again. She listened for a moment and realized that the Commander was in the room. Mortified, she kept her eyes shut and pretended to be asleep still.

"Vega, what happened?" Shepard asked. Her voice came from across the room and Catherine thought she must be sitting on the couch by the door. "Aria said something about red sand. You know the Alliance has a zero tolerance policy for drug abuse."

"It wasn't like that, Commander," James said in her defence. "She was jumped on one of the detours. She fought back and from how she tells it she must have broken the bag of sand the guy had on him. It spilled out on her and she ingested most of it. She's lucky she'd not dead."

"Aria's guy said she gave a pretty spectacular biotic display," Shepard said.

"What?" James exclaimed. "Aria had someone there and the bastard didn't step in when he saw someone was about to get raped?"

Catherine flinched away from the wrath in James' voice.

"Aria's had eyes on us every time we set foot on the station," Shepard explained. "But she had a no contact policy. The guy was out of line already by sending you a message to let you know she was being followed. I don't blame him for limiting himself to that considering who his boss is."

"So how did you find out then?" James asked.

"She sent me a private note with an address," Shepard said. "Her guy on the door told me the rest."

There was a long pause and Catherine couldn't tell what was going on. Then Shepard spoke again.

"She going to be okay?"

"Yeah," James said with a heavy sigh. "She'll be fine when she wakes up. Might have a bit of a head ache, but red sand clears the system pretty quick."

"And the wrist? She fit for duty?"

"Another thirty-six hours and she can take the bandage off," James explained. "The doctor Aria sent knew Mordin. He dipped into his high end stuff to fix her up."

"It pays to have friends," Shepard said. "You're a good man, James. For taking care of her like this. Are you two..."

"Not anymore," James said and Catherine heard the regret in his voice.

"Sounds like you'd like to be," Shepard said, picking up on the same thing.

"Can't say I haven't thought about it." The bed shifted and Catherine realized James was sitting against the wall beside her. "But we're better as friends."

"Yeah, I get that," Shepard said, and Catherine heard the crunch of her boots as she stood. "We're undocking within six hours. Stay here until then."

The bed rocked and Catherine let her head bounce naturally as James got off the bed.

"Hey, Commander. Listen, she really doesn't want anyone to know what happened. She's pretty ashamed of the drugs, and I doubt she wants anyone to know about the attempted rape."

Catherine had to stop to a smile from growing on her face as she listened to James.

"And no one else knows that she's a biotic and I know she doesn't like to share that."

"Don't worry, Lieutenant," Shepard said. "We'll keep it under wraps. The crew already knows something's up so we'll tell them about the attack, but none of the details. By the way, the asari died from her injuries. I'll let you decide if you want to tell her that."

The door hissed open and shut and when Catherine was sure she was alone with James she cracked open her eyes. They were gummy and sore and she lifted a hand to rub at them.

"Hey," James said, sitting on the bed beside her. "How ya feelin'?"

"Like a bag of smashed assholes," she said. Her sounded and felt like a bucket of gravel.

"Heh. That good, eh?" James laughed. "Sit up if you can. There's some food here for you."

"Are there any clothes for me to put on?" she asked, remembering that she was naked under the sheets.

"Shepard brought some stuff for you." He got up and tossed a blue t-shirt across the room at her.

It was one of her own. Shepard must have pulled it out of her locker for her. She wondered if Morgan knew she was alright. She would have expected to find her on the ship when she returned from the club.

Using one hand to lever herself up, Catherine sat against the wall and tugged the shirt over her head. James, who was wearing only his pants, came back to the bed carrying a tray of food for her. He set it down on her lap and then threw himself across the bed at her feet, leaning on one elbow.

Catherine looked down at the scrambled eggs and strips of crispy bacon and then looked back up at James.

"Eat it, Catnip," he said firmly. "Trust me. Nothing cures what ails you like eggs for breakfast."

"I'm less than thrilled, but since I barfed on you twice last night, I figure I better do what I'm told."

"Three times," James said with a little smirk.

"No." She tipped her head back and closed her eyes, hiding her face with her hands.

"'Fraid so," he said, chuckling. "On my best boots too. Lucky for you they're made to withstand plasma."

"I am so sorry, Jimmy," she said.

"Enough apologizing," he said. "It's starting to piss me off. And don't apologize for apologizing!"

"Okay, okay." She raised her hands defensively.

She picked up for fork and ate a tiny mouthful of eggs. Her stomach recoiled at first, but soon she was shovelling it away like it was the last thing she would ever eat.

"How long was I out for? And where are we?" she asked between bites of bacon.

"About twelve hours," James said. "We're in one of the back rooms at Purgatory. So, uh, that biotic explosion you set off..."

"I don't know how I did that," Catherine said.

"It was the sand," James said. "It can enhance biotics as well. Guess you would have been a pretty powerful adept if you'd kept the implant."

"Probably," she said, stuffing the last piece of bacon into her mouth. "I remember they were really pissed when my doctor insisted that it come out. The L2 was a rough piece of work."

"That asari," James started to say.

"I heard," Catherine said. "I was awake. Just wasn't ready to face Shepard yet."

"And you're okay with that," he asked, frowning at her.

"She got what was coming to her," Catherine said with a shrug. "Besides, it was their fault that it happened at all. I didn't asked to be attacked or drugged. And I had no idea what would happen when I defended myself. I was never trained how to focus my power."

"Glad you aren't too torn up about it." James sat up and crawled up the bed to sit beside her. "So you heard the whole conversation?"

"Most of it." Catherine leaned into him and let him put his arm around her shoulder. She put her good hand on his stomach and ran a finger along the lines of his abs. "You really think about us being something more?"

"I have," he admitted. "Not sure how serious a thought it was."

"I won't lie," she said. "I've thought about it too."

"And?"

"And I think I came to the same conclusion you did. We're better as friends. Best friends even."

"What about Morgan?" James asked.

"Different weapons, Jimmy," she used his own line to try to explain it.

"I want more than that," he said.

"Okay, best example... comfort. I can't sit like this with her. Half naked and using her as a pillow."

"Think I have a shot with your feisty little friend?" he asked shyly.

Catherine slapped him on the stomach and shouted, "I knew it! I knew you liked her."

"Yeah, I like her," he admitted. "I wanted to be sure that we were off the table before I said anything though. So? What are my chances?"

"It would not take much convincing," Catherine said with a warm smile. "She likes you. She can bully you."

"I should go for it then?"

"You should," Catherine told him. "Thought you didn't plan to retire?"

"She seems like she'd make a good soldier's wife."

"Whoa, the 'w' word! Must be more than a crush."

"Maybe a little," James said and then changed the subject. "We should get you up and moving."

Catherine was a little shaky, but managed to get on her feet and dress herself. Shepard had brought her track pants and running shoes as well as a bra and underwear. Luckily, James had thought to pick up her credit chit the night before and so as they walked back to the docks she stopped and bought a jacket.

It was the first chance she had to look in a mirror and she was appalled by what she saw. The left side of her face was covered in one livid purple and red bruise and her eye was ringed in black.

Her lip was indeed cut, but not as badly as it had felt like at the time. It was scabbed over and hurt whenever she tried to smile, but would not likely leave a scar. Her left ear was also torn. Three of her fives hoops had been pulled out and though they were designed to unclip with only a little pressure, they had still left marks.

While James used her credit chit to pay, she took out three little hoops from her other ear to even things out and tossed them away as a reminder of her horrible ordeal.

When they arrived back at the ship, Joker and EDI were on the bridge and immediately got up to see her. EDI seemed to sense that something more had happened but thankfully said nothing. Joker was simply impressed that she had taken the two assailants on and held her own until James arrived.

"Guess those sparring lessons down in the shuttle bay really paid off," he said shaking his head in a combination of anger and disbelief. "Can't believe this kind of crap is happening on the Persidium. Makes you wonder how bad it's getting down on the Wards."

They were interrupted by Morgan running full tilt through the CIC and wrapping Catherine in a huge hug.

"Fucking hell, Cat," she cried. "I was so worried. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Morgan," Catherine said, hugging her friend in return. "My wrist is broken though. Be careful with me."

"They broke your wrist?" Morgan shouted. "That's it. From now on we don't go anywhere alone. Do you think Shepard would let us carry pistols?"

"If you're licensed for one, she'd probably be fine with it," James said. "But you won't be allowed to carry it on the station so no point really."

Morgan linked arms with Catherine and lead her off through the CIC and down to the crew deck. James followed but continued down to the shuttle bay, leaving the two women to talk. Once in the lounge, Morgan began to pummel Catherine with questions.

"You pretty much know the whole story, Morgan," Catherine said. "They jumped me. I defended myself. James found me and finished the job."

"But where did you spend the night?" she pressed. "Why didn't you come back to the ship and see Doctor Chakwas?"

"Aria's been keeping an eye on us all apparently," Catherine said. "I must have made a good impression because she got us a room at Purgatory and brought in a doctor."

Morgan frowned at her. "A room? I thought you and James weren't sleeping together anymore?"

Catherine sighed in annoyance. Her head hurt and she was struggling to answer all the questions without revealing the heart of the story.

"We're not," she said. "But we were closer to the club than we were to the Normandy and the doctor gave me some pretty heavy pain killers. They knocked me out and James just stood guard."

This seemed to satisfy Morgan. She and Catherine stayed in the lounge for the rest of the day. Several people came to see Catherine, including Diana Allers, who wanted to do a story on her to leave with the news network on the Citadel to hopefully incite more people to sign up for the militia.

Catherine consented and when they were done with their short interview Diana apologized again for what she had done week before. Feeling generous, Catherine forgave her and against her will found herself liking the woman just a little bit.

When they undocked Catherine insisted on resuming her post thought Shepard told her it would be fine if she wanted to wait. They were on their way to Thessia and the transit time would be short. Stepping down would only raise more questions about what had happened to her that she couldn't perform her duties.

Shepard couldn't tell the crew exactly what they were doing, but from the tone of her voice they knew it was something big. Tensions were high on the ship as they hit the relay, and everyone felt that whatever it was they were going for, it could very well finish the war. Catherine hoped beyond hope that they were nearing the end.


	15. Chapter 15 Defeat

Not a lot of humans had been to Thessia. Though all species were welcome, there were many other asari worlds that were more accepting of visitors. However, the war had reached their home world and just getting into the system was going to be risky.

They jumped into a distant orbit to find the system crawling with Reapers. EDI's scans showed nearly one hundred Reaper signatures on and above the planet. Even looking at the day side the view was just as devastating as Palavan.

Fires burned in all the major cities. Clouds of smoke hung like black hurricanes over inland seas. The jungles at the equator were all but gone, slashed and burned with ruthless efficiency. Catherine wondered if the Reapers would go so far as to salt the earth to ensure nothing could survive.

How did ecosystems recover from Reaper attacks? Was every dead planet out there a past casualty of the Cycles, as Javik called them? Was the galaxy going to run out of habitable planets at some point if the Reapers couldn't be stopped?

All these questions and more raced through Catherine's head as she watched the view from the lounge, waiting for EDI to inform them that the shuttle had launched and the squad was on its way to the surface.

Liara of course was going with Shepard. James had done everything but get down on his knees and beg to go but Shepard had chosen to take Javik along which lead everyone to suspect that what they were looking for was in fact another Prothean artefact.

Kaidan had given in to nervous pacing in the mess hall and Garrus was sitting calmly on the stairs leading to the main battery trying to keep the Major from going out of his mind.

When they'd first set out, the Reapers had been aware of their presence and their effort at resistance, but had seemed to care little. Now, after they had taken out two of them numbers and thwarted their efforts in several places, they were really sitting up and taking notice.

It had become more and more difficult for them to scan systems for the assets they so desperately needed. The Reapers picked up on them quickly and came in force to try to shoot them from the sky.

Joker's skills as a pilot were being put to the test daily and the wear and tear was starting to show in him. His humour was becoming more cynical and bitter. He spent more time alone in the bridge and was rarely seen in the mess hall. Catherine wasn't sure he was sleeping more than a few hours at a time.

Shepard had landed on the planet and made contact with an asari lieutenant. She'd radioed back to the ship to tell them it was going to take a lot longer than she'd thought to reach the temple. Reaper forces were tearing through asari defences like a flyswatter through a swarm of gnats.

Catherine was getting more and more angry every time she heard the word decimated from someone's mouth. Decimated meant one tenth and if you considered that most military forces numbered in the thousands, casualties of ten percent seemed minimal.

Hundreds of asari, particularly their youth had been evacuated from the Citadel and many of their outlying colonies and shipped back to Thessia. No one quite knew what exactly the asari had been thinking when they began doing this. It was shocking that their High Command seemed to have actually believed the war would not reach their home world.

But reached them it had and now civilian ships, private freighters and mercenary ships were fleeing in barely controlled pandemonium as the already taxed military tried desperately to defend them.

Joker was forced to continually change their position to keep out of the way of these fleeing ships as the Normandy was invisible to their sensors. A midspace collision with a frightened, less skilled pilot would put a quick end to all their work.

When EDI detected non asari ships in orbit it didn't take her long to figure out that Cerberus was in the area as well. Joker tried repeatedly to raise the Commander, but their signal was being blocked and EDI was unable to break the jamming.

After hours on the surface, Shepard and her squad finally returned, but no news was given and the Commander went straight to her quarters with Kaidan and Liara retreated to her own cabin.

Everyone could sense that something had changed and it wasn't difficult to work out that the mission had not gone as planned. After leaving her station to Ai-Wei, Catherine stopped to talk to Samantha.

"What's going on?" she asked quietly, leaning on the desk next to the Specialist.

"Nothing good," Samantha replied. "And I'm not sure I'm allowed to talk about any of it yet."

"Did they at least get what they went down there for?" Catherine felt her heart beating faster with every moment that went by without an update. "I'm freaking out here."

Samantha was silent and continued to type away at her console, but the frown on her face told Catherine that she as struggling internally. Catherine was standing to leave when Samantha grabbed her by the arm and whispered furiously.

"They didn't, Cat," she almost choked on the words. "I can't tell you what they were looking for, but it could have ended this. Cerberus got their first. Shepard almost died. Again."

"Cerberus again," Catherine hissed. "How are they always one step ahead of us. This doesn't make sense. I thought Udina was their mole. He's dead so that means there must be someone else. Maybe even someone on the ship."

"That's just not possible," Samantha said with conviction. "EDI and monitor all transmissions inbound and outbound. Nothing leaves this ship without our knowledge."

"But what about while we're docked?" Catherine asked. "Anyone could be sending out messages from the Citadel."

"But how would they have the information? Most of the time Shepard doesn't tell us anything until we're already where we need to be. And not only that..."

Samantha had barely looked up from her console while they spoke. Now she trailed off and Catherine could see her eyes scanning rapidly down lines of code.

"Sam?"

"Sorry, Cat," she mumbled. "I think I've found something here. EDI where is the Commander?"

"Shepard is in the comm room speaking with the asari councillor," EDI replied. "Would you like me to ask her to see you?"

EDI seemed to already know what Samantha had found.

"No, EDI. Not until I'm sure."

"What is it?" Catherine asked, her heart beating faster as she watched Samantha sift through the reams of information in front of her.

"Traynor," Shepard's voice echoed through the console. "War room, now."

"Right away, Commander," Samantha said quickly.

EDI was already walking forward from the bridge and the elevator opened to allow James, Liara, and Kaidan out. Liara looked a devastating combination of furious and grief stricken. Catherine caught James' eye and he paused to talk to her.

"Is Shepard going to tell me what's going on?" she whispered.

"Not until we figure out how info is getting off the ship." He kept his voice low and leaned down to talk to her.

"Was the mission really a failure, James? 'Cause I find that really hard to believe."

"I can't talk about it, Cat," he said with a frown. "Not yet anyway. Come down to the shuttle bay later and I'll tell you more if I can."

The rest of the squad was moving through security and in the war rooms and James followed, leaving with a comforting pat on her shoulder. Sam accepting an incoming hail and told Shepard that Hackett was available on vidcom then made her own way into the war rooms.

Catherine was left standing idly in the CIC not sure what to do with herself. She wanted to talk to Morgan and release some of the pent up thoughts piling up in her head, but her friend was on duty. She realised she hadn't seen Garrus join the others and wondered if he was around somewhere below.

She'd never spent much time alone with him. He was easy to talk to and always friendly. Maybe he would be open to some company. The elevator was waiting and she stepped inside, pacing while the lift made its slow way down.

The mess was empty, an unusual sight for the middle of the day cycle. Even the med bay was empty. Catherine wondered where everyone was and whether she was missing something big. James would laugh at her later if she was.

A few of the sleep pod were occupied and Catherine wondered at the ability of some people to sleep with the glass untinted. She always felt so exposed that way.

The door to the main battery was typically slow opening as it ran its scans of her assessing her security clearance. As life support tech she was allowed in almost every area of the ship. When it finally opened, she turned the corner to find Tali sitting on the work bench to the right with Garrus leaning over her. His hand were on her thighs, his head bent close to hers. One of her delicate hands was lifted to his cheek, her head tilted in an attitude of sympathy. It was clearly an intimate moment she'd intruded on.

"Wow, I'm so sorry guys," she fumbled. "I didn't realize you were both in here."

She turned to leave.

"It's okay, Cat," Garrus called. "C'mon back."

Shyly, feeling uncomfortable, Catherine turned and went back into the battery. Tali had hopped down off the bench and was standing beside Garrus wringing her hands.

"What's up?" Garrus asked nonchalantly.

"I... uh... was just hoping to find someone to talk to," Catherine stammered. "Things are feeling pretty tense around here."

"What you saw just now," Tali blurted out and Garrus shook his head. "We were... ah."

Clearly Tali was feeling as awkward as Catherine was and for some reason that made her feel better. She smiled at the quarian.

"I won't say anything," she said. "I get it. I've had my own little fling here."

"I knew it," Garrus said loudly. "No one came right out and said it but I knew you and Vega were up to something."

"Good to know scuttlebutt isn't completely reliable," Catherine chuckled. "Shall I leave you two alone?"

"No, it's okay," Tali said, looking relieved. "We were just talking. Really."

Catherine came further into the room and lifted herself up on the bench where Tali had been sitting. The quarian joined her and Garrus leaned back against his console.

"So why aren't you guys in the war room with everyone else?" Catherine asked.

"Not much either of us can offer on finding Cerberus," Garrus said.

"I've been with the Migrant Fleet for the last 6 months," Tali said. "I don't know anything about what Cerberus has been up to so I'm not help."

"So, I'm not the only one feeling useless," Catherine sighed.

"No one expects anything from you," Garrus said. "You do your job and that's all anyone asks."

"You guys were both with Shepard when she was working with Cerberus right?" she asked carefully, not wanting to offend either of them.

"Garrus and I have been here since the beginning," Tali said with a note of pride.

"Maybe you could explain something to me then," Catherine said as she jumped off the bench and began pacing. "I've heard a few details here and there, but I'm not really clear on a few things. The Collectors were controlled by the Reapers, right?"

Garrus nodded. "Turns out the Reaper take a slave race every cycle and mutate them to serve their purposes. Collectors were Protheans."

"And the Collectors controlled use off the Omega-4 relay," Catherine said and Tali and Garrus both nodded. "So, the Reapers can obviously control the relays. Here's what I don't get. If the Reapers can control the relays, why don't they just lock us out? Why are we still even able to move freely through the galaxy?"

"That," Garrus said. "Is a very good question. I think there are two possible answers. One, they don't care. They don't see us as a threat and so they can't be bothered to slow us down. Two, they are playing with us. This is a game to them and they enjoy watching us scramble to fight them."

"I think there is another option," Catherine said, stopping her pacing and looking at Garrus where he stood with his arms crossed. "What if the Reapers aren't really the ones in charge?"

"What do you mean?" Tali asked.

"Well, machines don't just build themselves," Catherine stated. "An AI doesn't suddenly achieve consciousness. They have to be designed. The Reapers had to have been built by someone somewhere at some point."

Garrus and Tali glanced at each other and Tali shrugged. They looked back at Catherine and Tali asked,

"How much do you know about why the Collectors were abducting people?"

"Virtually nothing."

"We're not really supposed to tell you this," Tali said softly, even though EDI would be able to hear every word anyway. "But we don't work for the Alliance so it's not like they can court martial us. The Collectors were building a Reaper."

"Excuse me," Catherine said, sure she had misheard the quarian.

"That's what we found when we went through the Omega-4 relay," Garrus continued. "They were... breaking down humans to their base components and using the resulting matter to build a human Reaper."

Catherine could only stare at the turian, her jaw slack and bile rising up in her throat. She swallowed twice, trying not to gag.

"I don't understand," she managed at last.

"We weren't really able to learn much about it from the Collector base," Tali told her. "Shepard destroyed it. But from what we understand, the Reapers add to their numbers by harvesting the species of each cycle."

"But then why do they all look the same?" Catherine asked, leaning back against the cold metal of the battery.

"We don't know," Tali said. "Shepard had theories though. Like maybe the shells are the same but the insides are all different. They aren't all exactly alike. The vary greatly in size and slightly in shape."

"But still, something had to construct the first one, or at least create the artificial intelligence," Catherine said.

"If that was true," Garrus said slowly. "That would imply that someone _wants_ us to fight back."

Catherine thought for a moment, feeling her theory taking shape in her head even as they talked spoke. "What if it's like a test. The used the Protheans, what we now know to be the most powerful species of their time. And then there's the Keepers. What if they are some other species the Reapers perverted to their cause?"

"It does make a sort of sense," Garrus said thoughtfully.

"I feel sorry for the Keepers," Tali said with a sigh. "Ever since I saw one for the first time. Do you think they are aware of anything?"

"I sure hope not." Catherine shook her head and started pacing again. "I wish there was more Javik could tell us. Why keep someone alive for fifty thousand years if they don't have at least some of the answers."

"I guess you don't know about Ilos then," Garrus said.

"What's Ilos?" Catherine said, looking from Tali to Garrus and back again.

"We are telling you so many things we shouldn't," Tali said. "But I think Shepard has bigger things to worry about."

"Ilos was a lost Prothean world," Garrus explained. "Well, until we found it that is. It had a bunker just like the one on Eden Prime. A whole city of sleeping Protheans waiting for the Reapers to leave so they could wake up. They were the best and brightest minds their civilization had to offer. But they all died."

"That was their plan?" Catherine said in disbelief. "They were just going to wait it out?"

"It was their last hope," Tali said. "There was nothing left for them to do."

EDI's voice sounded overhead. "Speaking of Javik, you may wish to see Liara. She is on her way up from engineering. She's had something of a disagreement with Javik."

"I'll go," Tali said quickly and jogged out of the battery.

Garrus returned to his console and fiddled with settings for the ships weaponry. Catherine leaned on it from the other side and gave a deep sigh.

"I guess Liara gets to join the Lost Home World Club now," she said.

"It's a shitty club," Garrus agreed.

His comm pinged and he opened the channel. It was Tali. Catherine backed away to a discreet distance to give them some privacy. She could still hear what was said and it sounded like Liara had fallen into the same pit of despair they were all finding themselves in at one time or another through this war.

"How bad?" Garrus asked

"I've never seen Liara like this," Tali said. "Not even after Novaria."

"Damn," Garrus swore.

"Can you talk to her?" Tali said pleadingly. "You've known her as long as any of us. And with Palaven..."

"I'm just another damn reminder of how many people are dying," Garrus said. His voice was calm, but Catherine could see the strain on his face. "You should talk to her."

"I just regained my home world. She just lost hers."

"Well, I don't have any magic words. She needs time. Maybe call her later."

"She went straight to her cabin. She's not answering her comm."

Shepard's voice joined the conversation.

"I'll go talk to Liara."

"Good," Tali said, the relief clear in her voice. "When she went by... She just really needs you right now."

Garrus closed the comm, left his console and sat heavily on a crate against the wall. Catherine had never seen this side of Garrus. He usually maintained a staid, calm demeanour, but the stress was clearly beginning to get to him. But his attitude now seemed more for Tali than himself.

"This must be hard on her," Catherine said.

"She'd never say it, but I think that's part of the reason she's here," Garrus said. He tipped his head back until his crest clicked against the wall. "She feels guilty that the quarians seem to be gaining in this war while the rest of us deal with loss after loss."

"She knows none of us see it that way, right?" Catherine asked. "Well, at least not about Tali."

"That's part of the problem. We might not see Tali has a villain, but there are a lot of people who aren't looking kindly on the quarians in general. How much time did we waste cleaning up the mess on Rannoch? And there's the fact that Cerberus hit Thessia before us. If we hadn't been dealing with their war, we might have gotten there first."

"Garrus when you say a lot of people... do you mean you?"

The turian leaned forward and hung his head. "Maybe I do."

Catherine pushed away from the console and went to sit down beside him. She took his hand in hers and gave it a little squeeze.

"We can't start thinking that way about each other," she told him gently. "From what I understand, the quarians have been amping up for this war for years. They didn't believe in the Reaper threat. Neither did the turians. Or asari. And humanity certainly turned a deaf ear to Shepard's warnings. There's fault enough to find in every species. But we can't start pointing fingers, and we can't let ourselves give in to the urge to cast blame."

Garrus turned and looked at her, his vivid blue eyes studying her intently.

"How old were during the First Contact War?"

"Three or four. Why?"

"Because the human capacity to forgive blows my mind," he said with a twitch of his mandibles that Catherine had come to see as the equivalent of a turian smile. "I used to think it was because you have such a short life span compared to other species, but you don't live much longer than turians and we know how to hold a grudge."

"We're not all so forgiving," Catherine said with a sad smile.

"But most of you are. And I like that. I like humans. A lot of turians do."

"I met the Primarch," Catherine told him. "He certainly gave me that impression."

Their conversation was interrupted when Shepard came on the comm.

"Listen up everyone. We're going dark. Completely dark. No transmissions in or out. I don't want to hear so much as a whisper out of this ship until I give the okay."

The comm closed and there was silence in the battery. Catherine had never heard Shepard speak to severely. The Commander always strove to be positive and encouraging, but something had changed. The last mission was eating away at her.

"Shepard's not used to defeat," Garrus said seeing the look on Catherine's face.

"We all get knocked down sometimes," Catherine said. "Good thing she's got people like you to pick her back up."

She bumped Garrus affectionately with her shoulder and stood up. "James wanted to talk. I should go see what he has to say."

Garrus rose and went back to his console and Catherine made her way slowly to the elevator and down to the shuttle bay. James was there but he couldn't tell her anything new. He seemed pumped about whatever it was that they had discussed in the war room.

Not a lot of things got James twitchy. In fact, only three things that Catherine could think of made him that way. Gambling, sex, and battle. Of the three, battle seemed the most likely and it gave Catherine heart.

It meant they had a plan. There was a next step despite the defeat. It also wasn't hard to work out that they were likely headed in search of Cerberus. James hated the Reapers, but here was a special loathing in him, in all of them, for Cerberus.

Cerberus represented the worst that humanity had to offer. Greed and lust for power and control, the ability to block out morals and ethics, and worst of all, the human capacity for cruelty.

Garrus was right, humans were remarkably gifted when it came to forgiveness, but it stemmed from their ability to inflict horrors upon others. From the animals once used in medical testing to the circus of ancient Rome where human beings were slaughters by the thousands for the amusement of others. Humanity had to be able to forgive or they would have killed themselves off centuries ago.

Humans could be hideous things, and Cerberus was a reminder of that. They made it harder to remember what they were all fighting for, sacrificing for. They took away hope and compassion and pride. They took away the things that made Alliance soldiers great and Catherine knew James wanted to tear each and every one of them limb from limb.

James Vega. Whenever Catherine felt that knot of fury tying itself around her heart she thought of him. James Vega represented what was great and good in humanity. Forgiveness, tolerance and patience. No one could deny that Shepard was an paradigm that every soldier looked up to, but James was that and more.

He hated Cerberus with every fibre of his being, and yet none of that showed when he looked at Shepard. Or Joker or EDI and Garrus, Tali, Kenneth, Gabby, or any of the other crew members who has served with Shepard as part of Cerberus.

He wasn't suspicious or vengeful and he never questioned Shepard or her judgement. And it wasn't because he was just a jarhead trained to follow orders. James was the kind of soldier who had to be inspired. He had to have faith in his superiors and he had to trust them. If James Vega wasn't a glowing endorsement of Commander Shepard, Catherine didn't know what was.

James was more on edge than she had ever seen him. Catherine tried to spar with him, but he needed a tougher partner. Someone he could really wail on, and Catherine wasn't it. Finally she called Garrus down and the turian was more than happy to indulge the man's need to fight.

Catherine sat by with Cortez helping him clean weapons and watching as the two threw each other about the deck. When they called it a draw at last, Garrus retreated back up to the battery and James collapsed on his cot.

He asked Catherine to stay with him and she did. She'd slept little since they were last at the Citadel and kept having flashbacks to her experience with the red sand. She felt safe with him and as the night cycle descended on the ship and the shuttle bay fell silent, she lay her head down on his chest and found solace in his embrace.

They were awoken by the sound of someone clearing their throat. Catherine blinked several times before her eyes managed to focus on Shepard.

"EDI ad Kaidan are on their way down," the Commander said. "Thought you might appreciate a wakeup call."

James sat up quickly and Catherine all but tumbled off him. "Ready when you are, Commander."

"Sorry, James, but I can't use you on this one," Shepard said. "I need Kaidan's biotics and I need EDI's ability to hack into Cerberus' network."

"If you say so, Shepard, but you owe me chance to kick those bastards where it hurts," James said much more calmly than Catherine expected.

When Shepard walked away to begin selecting her weapons, Catherine leaned over the James and whispered, "Where are we?"

"Guess there's no harm in telling you now," James replied. "We're at Horizon. This is Sanctuary."

Catherine's heart dropped. Sanctuary was supposed to be a safe haven from the war. People had been flocking there in droves. And now they were learning it was really a Cerberus facility.

"Nothing good can come of this," Catherine said, and turned to watch Shepard and her squad climbing into the shuttle.


	16. Chapter 16 Tensions Rising

Cerberus shuttles were leaving the planet in a big hurry. Joker was noting one or more every couple of minutes and he was beyond frustrated at being unable to chase them or at least track them.

With EDI's avatar gone from the ship he'd opened a channel to Catherine and was ranting at her where she sat at her station.

"Joker, I've got to ask," Catherine said. "How did you stand working for Cerberus? I mean I know you guys all see it as working for Shepard, but really, how did you guys live with it?"

"I don't know, Cat," his exasperation clear in his voice. "Kaidan asked me the same thing and I didn't have an answer then. "At first there wasn't a whole lot any of us knew about what Cerberus was up to. Once I unshackled EDI things really changed."

"What do you mean?"

Joker sighed. "It's hard to really explain. There were lots of little things. Kinda had to be there, but it wasn't easy, that's for sure."

"It's not easy for us either," Catherine said. "Trying to understand the logic. Why Shepard was with Cerberus."

"So, I guess you don't really know the whole story, eh?"

"I know most of it," Catherine admitted. "Between what James, Garrus and Tali have told me I've pieced together a lot

"Those guys are so bad," Joker said with a slightly laugh. "Have they never heard the phrase 'loose lips sink ships'?"

"Speaking of which," Catherine said. "Do you really think there is someone aboard leaking information?"

"Not a chance," Joker said with absolute surety. "For one thing I doubt there is anyone here who would do that. For another... Let's just say The Illusive Man is not stupid. Crazy as shit, but not stupid. What was it he used to say EDI? _Information is my weapon_."

His voice was mocking and derisive at the same time. His hatred for the Illusive Man obvious.

"So, you really think he's just been on the ball this whole time?"

"I think the slimy bastard has spies everywhere."

"Jeff," EDI's voice interrupted their conversation. "There is a signal coming from the planet."

"Is it Shepard?" he said hopefully. "Patch it through."

"It is not Shepard," EDI said slowly. "It's a warning."

"Should I be listening in on this, EDI?" Catherine asked warily.

"Anyone aboard could have picked up this signal. It is a general broadcast."

Just like Samantha and Joker, EDI was positive that no one on the ship was feeding information to Cerberus. Allowing Catherine to listen in was her way of saying she trusted her.

There was a painful burst of static before the message began.

"_Listen_ _to me. This is not a refugee camp. This is a Cerberus facility run by my father, Henry Lawson. Turn back now. There is no help to be found here. All communication is being blocked from the central tower. Sanctuary is a lie. Stay away."_

The message was a loop and began to play again before Joker cut the feed.

"Shit," Joker swore softly.

"You know her?" Catherine asked.

"Miranda Lawson was Shepard's second in command during our assault on the Collectors," EDI explained.

"Another ex-Cerberus I assume," Catherine said.

"Another convert to the Shepard method," Joker said with a wry laugh. "Some people would just kill off all their enemies. Shepard wants them all to be friends."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Catherine said with some annoyance. Joker's sour mood had been getting to her of late. "Shepard's collected favours have done us a lot of good."

There was silence from the bridge and Catherine felt guilty for her tone of voice. Joker was under a lot of pressure and had been isolating himself with disturbing frequency. He talked to people only via comm and rarely left his pilot's seat.

Catherine sat at her station for several more minutes, turning the conversation over in her mind. Finally she commed the deck officer and requested leave to vacate her station. The deck officer granted it and Catherine got up out of seat and headed for the bridge.

Joker didn't turn around when she entered. She could see that he had his hat off and his head was bowed. Coming up beside the chair she put her hand on his shoulder.

"You okay, Jeff?"

He took a moment to respond. "No. No, not really."

"Want to talk?" she offered.

"Not really anything to talk about," he said testily.

"There's lots to talk about," Catherine said. "Anything you need to say, I'll listen."

Joker was silent.

"Or I could just hang out here with you and keep you company while EDI is away."

She sat herself down in the co-pilots seat and brought of her own system and continued to monitor life support. The bridge was much quieter than anywhere else on the ship. It's distance from the drive core and engines meant that it was one of the only places free of the constant hum heard everywhere else.

Joker was a much more sensitive and thoughtful guy than he let on to most people. To be trapped up there in that silence with only his own thoughts for company must be a special kind of hell. Just like Shepard, he had regular briefings with Hackett and Anderson and Catherine wondered if he received more or other information than the Commander did. Information about the status of Earth or of the fleets.

His nickname wasn't far from the mark. He tried to keep things light, sometimes making jokes at extremely inappropriate times. Most of the crew appreciated his humour and understood that he wasn't being insensitive or callus, it was just his way of coping. But even that had been failing him lately.

When he finally spoke, Catherine was lost in her own thoughts and jumped at the sounds of his voice.

"Geez, you scared me," she squeaked. "What did you say?"

"I asked if you've heard of Tiptree."

"Yeah, it's a new colony, right." She had heard it mentioned in an Alliance report a few years back. The name was interesting and had stood out.

"That's where my dad and sister are," Joker said, his voice flat. "Well, they might be. Finally got some news the other day."

"And?" Catherine kept her voice neutral. Very little news about colonies had been good news so far.

"And my dad is probably dead," he said dully.

"What about your sister?"

"Probably dead too." His voice caught a little as he spoke. "Shepard heard some asari on the Citadel talking about a kid named Hillary being killed."

"Pretty common name," Catherine said. "Could be someone else."

"She's just a kid," he said forcefully, suddenly angry. "And she never wanted to move out there."

Catherine caught herself before she said anything. She'd been about to offer the cliché line of_ There's no way you could have known_, but the truth was that they did know. They had all known. And no one had known more than Joker and the rest of the crew of the Normandy.

"I know how you feel Joker," she said at last. "But what could you have done really? It's not like there was anywhere safe from the Reapers."

"I know. I know," he said. "Doesn't reduce the suck factor."

"Hopefully there will be some answers when Shepard gets back," Catherine said, feeling a knot of worry forming in her own stomach. "Once we get Cerberus dealt with we're on the home stretch. At least I hope we are. I feel burn out heading our way. Especially you, Jeff. You have got to get some down time."

"I'll sleep when I'm dead," he said angrily.

"Oh fuck, Joker. Please knock on wood," Catherine said with a cynical laugh. "Let's not tempt fate, eh."

"Incoming transmission from Commander Shepard," EDI's voice said through Joker's console.

"Patch it through, EDI."

"Joker, we're on our way back," the Commander said. Her voice was rough, layers of anger and grief tinting her words. "Did Miranda's message make it through to the ship?"

"We heard it, Commander," Jeff said, his friendly, professional tone coming back. "Is Miranda alright?"

"She's fine. We're all fine. There'll be a full briefing after I talk to Hackett. In the meantime, get that message bouncing around all the comm bouys you can. Shepard out."

The channel closed with a sharp click and Joker shook his head.

"If by fine she means really not fine at all, then I believe her."

There was nothing to add to Joker's statement and Catherine stayed quiet. Looking out over the console the planet loomed large outside. It was so much like Earth. A blue and green marble laced with wispy, white streamers of clouds.

Staring out at Horizon, Catherine realized that after over two months in space she still had not set foot on another planet. They had orbited many and she'd done more traveling in that short time than many people in their entire lives and yet really she'd been nowhere.

The dream of her life had been to travel, to join a colony, to see the galaxy. Who knew now if she would ever even see Earth again. She'd pretty much come to terms with the fact that her life could end at any moment.

Every jump through a relay could be leading them into an ambush. Whenever they had to linger in a system waiting for Shepard to complete a mission they risked exposure. And who knew that would happen if Shepard went down. Would there be anyone else to pick up the torch?

Catherine had not voiced these fears to anyone yet. Just as she had told Joker to knock on wood for his comments, she felt like saying these things aloud would be asking for trouble. And they had enough trouble chasing them through the galaxy without her jinxing them.

"I guess I should get out of here," Catherine said and got up out of EDI's chair. "Jeff, next time we linger somewhere, take some real down time. Come play cards with me, or have a drink, something, anything, just don't let this eat at you. It's not healthy."

"Thanks, Cat," he said and reached out a hand.

Catherine took it in her own and gave it a slight squeeze. They all needed a little human contact now and then. Letting go she left the bridge and returned to her station. The shuttle was already entering the hanger and as it did Catherine's shift ended and John took her place.

Feeling the need for some contact of her own, Catherine got herself a plate of food and went down to the shuttle bay to see James. Shepard had already gone to her cabin to clean up, but Kaidan was there with James and Morgan. He was slowly removing his armour and wiping away Reaper gore while trying to tell James what they'd seen.

Within seconds it became painfully clear that she would not be eating her meal. Kaidan's description of what they had found was beyond horrendous. Catherine sat down on James' cot beside Morgan and listened with a morbid fascination

"We all know the Illusive Man is hell bent on beating the Reapers," Kaidan said shaking his head and running a wet cloth over the surface of his chest plate. "But what we saw down there... I've never felt rage like that before. It was a whole new level of cruelty."

"I don't get it," Morgan said, her own face going red with fury. "What did he hope to achieve by turning people into husks?"

"He thinks he can control the Reapers," Kaidan said.

"But why?" Catherine asked. "To what end? The Reapers are sentient beings. You can train a wolf to wear a collar, but that doesn't mean it won't eat your face off."

"Who knows what he's thinking, Catnip," James said as he drove his fist into his punching bag. "The guy's so filled with Reaper tech they're probably doing his thinking for him at this point."

"You think the Illusive Man might be indoctrinated?" Kaidan asked.

"Wouldn't surprise me." The chains supporting the punching bag rattled as he pounded it with a series of sharp strikes.

"How do we know we aren't indoctrinated?" Catherine said, the questions slipping out before she could stop herself.

"Indoctrination is a slow process," Kaidan explained. "It's subtle, but it's slow. You would have to be in close proximity to a Reaper for an extended period of time. And the stronger your will, the harder it is for them to get in. It doesn't just happen."

"What about repeated exposures?" Catherine pressed on, now that they were on the topic. "I mean, Shepard's _talked_ to Reapers. She been around Reaper artifacts. You all have."

Kaidan sighed. "I thought the same thing myself when I found out Shepard was with Cerberus. I didn't know how she could be working with them if she was in her right mind. But she's... Shepard has an incredible mind. Her will is like iron. Benezia, Liara's mother, broke free of indoctrination and she lived aboard Sovereign for months. Believe me, the Reapers could be trying, but they'll never get Shepard."

Kaidan didn't look up as he spoke. He wiped methodically at his armour and Catherine couldn't tell what emotions she was hearing in him. Pride, despondency, love, rejection. They all seemed to be there.

Everyone knew that Kaidan and Shepard were a couple. Kaidan didn't use the crew quarters and neither of them attempted to be discreet about their movements to and from her cabin. But Catherine thought there was something else there.

There was a sadness about Kaidan. A resignation. As if he thought the end was just around the corner. He was a quiet and reserved man and didn't reveal his inner thoughts easily, but Catherine had a woman's ability to read between the lines, to see the currents that ran under those still waters.

Without a doubt, Kaidan Alenko loved Jane Shepard with every ounce of himself, but it was a love that pained him. A love that was ready to convert to mourning at a moment's notice. But also a love he would not let go of for all the world. Choosing to let go of it would be harder than its sudden loss.

All this trekked through Catherine mind as she studied Kaidan, and though the realization made her ache for him, it also made her jealous. Having a love like that was something everyone aspired to. And there was a certain kind of bitter sweet romance to living each day with a person like it could be the last one ever spent together.

Every kiss and caress must be that much sweeter. Every moment their eyes met must exchange so much more than mere love. She couldn't deny that thinking like that, acknowledging her jealousy, wasn't bringing back ancient feelings.

Kaidan had remained for years as the ideal in her head of what a man should be. She had told James she compared the kisses to Kaidan's, but in reality it was much more than that. All those year ago Kaidan had set the precedent and few men since had lived up to it.

His sweet, gentle nature and the quiet humour beneath was intoxicating. He had changed since then, a great deal in fact, but Catherine could tell from her few short conversations with him that everything that made him who he was was still below the surface waiting for the right time to reveal itself.

Catherine realized that she was staring at the Major as he worked on his armour. She shook her head and broke out of her mental fog to find Morgan staring at her. Her friend raised her eyebrows and Catherine blushed.

Morgan knew in general details about Catherine's past relationship with Kaidan, but what she didn't know was how Catherine felt still. Every now and then when she was feeling down or had a bad experience with another man, she let her mind wander back to her one night with Kaidan. In a way he had been a touchstone for most of her life.

"That bruise is looking a lot better." She swung her head around at the sound of Kaidan's voice.

"Bruise?" He spoke directly to her so rarely that she was surprised and her mind went blank.

"Your face," he said, pointing at her. "You looked pretty rough when we left the Citadel. It's looking better."

"Oh, thanks," she replied with a slight, shy smile. "Doctor Chakwas offered to touch it up for me, but I figured resources are scarce enough and this will heal on its own."

"I feel like you haven't told us the whole story," Morgan said skeptically.

Catherine glanced at James and he gave the smallest shrug.

"There's not much to tell," Catherine said, trying to keep the lie as simple as possible. "I was followed out of the club and one of Aria's people told James I was being tailed. He made it there in time to stop them robbing me and then brought me back to the club where one a doctor looked after my wrist."

"And you really managed to hold your own against two attackers?" Morgan said. She obviously sensed the gaps in the story.

"That's impressive, Catherine," Kaidan complimented, and she blushed again.

"Jimmy's the hero here," she said, hoping to divert the conversation away from her. "He taught me what I needed to know to defend myself and when that knowledge ran out he arrived just in time to save my ass."

"But what I still don't get is why you didn't just come back here," Morgan pressed.

"Morgan, she already told you," James said, coming to her rescue. "We were closer to the club and that's where Aria's guy lead us."

Morgan seemed taken aback, but then her eyes narrowed and she scowled at James.

"She doesn't need rescuing from me, Vega," Morgan spat.

"Sure seems like she does," he retorted. "Back off why don't you."

"Okay, guys-" Catherine tried to say, but Morgan jumped right back at James.

"I know you guys are BFFs or whatever, but Cat can stick up for herself," Morgan said, just starting to raise her voice.

Catherine raise her hand and tried to interrupt again but James spoke right over her.

"Yeah, she can," he said hotly. "Which is why she managed to kill that asari bitch who attacked her. And it was thanks to my training."

Morgan spun around and stared at Catherine. "You fucking killed someone!"

Again, Catherine tried to interpose and again the pair fought right over her.

"Yeah, she killed someone," James replied. "Where the hell were you? Why weren't you walking back with her?"

"I'm not her keeper," Morgan shouted. "But since we're asking, where were you? You certainly seemed to be keeping close tabs on her until recently."

"Okay, that's enough," Kaidan's voice boomed out. Even Catherine shrank from the authority in it. "Settle down, both of you."

Morgan gave Catherine a disparaging look and stalked away from them, pacing as she waited for the elevator to make its way down. James went back to pummeling his punching bag.

"Thanks," Catherine whispered to Kaidan.

"No problem," he said softly. "Tempers are running hot."

"She deflecting her anger about Sanctuary onto James," Catherine said. "I'm feeling pretty numb myself at the moment, but I'm sure it's going to surface sooner or later."

Kaidan nodded knowingly and they sat in silence punctuated only by the thud of James' blows and his occasional grunt of exertion. Catherine thought she should go after Morgan, but her friend's anger would not dissipate quickly and Catherine just wasn't in the mood to deal with it.

Kaidan's omnitool lit up on his wrist and Shepard's voice whispered from it loud enough that Catherine could hear.

"Kaidan, want to come up? I don't plan on leaving my cabin until we reach the Citadel."

"Definitely," was his immediate response. "Just finished cleaning my armour. I'll stow it and head up."

James didn't look away from his punching bag as Kaidan said goodbye and hauled away his gear. When he was gone, Catherine got up and stood behind James.

"What was that all about, Jimmy?"

He didn't answer her, just kept on punching. She waited for a gap between punches and inserted herself between him and the bag.

"Stop for two second and talk to me," she insisted.

He shook out his hands, one of which was bleeding and paced a few steps away. Without warning he turned around and grabbed her, dragged her over to the cot and pinned her down, crushing her into the taut surface with his body. His lips slammed into hers, grinding with a fierceness she's never felt from him before.

The weight of him was so much that she could hardly breathe. One hand was behind her head, fingers tugging at her hair, while the other dug into her hip hard enough to cause a throbbing pain that radiated down her leg and back to her spine.

She tried to return his kiss, hoping that reciprocated ardour would slow him, but he was possessed. Her lungs were screaming at her and she sunk her nails into the back of his neck, turning her head from side to side as she did.

He broke away long enough for her gasp his name. And just like that he was gone. One his feet and pacing the floor beside the cot.

"Shit, Jimmy," she said between pants. "You have got to figure out a way to release besides fighting and fucking."

As she sat up and rubbed at her already swelling lips he crouched down beside her and bowed his head.

"I'm sorry, Cat," his teeth ground around the words. "I was all fired up and you were right there."

Her hand cupped his chin and she lifted his head to look into his eyes. There was such a riot of emotion there it was hard to maintain the gaze.

"It's okay, James," she said with a light caress of her fingers down his cheek. "No harm done."

James let his body relax and he collapsed to the floor, sitting with his back up against the crate under the cot. Catherine moved to sit with her legs on either side of his shoulders and she leaned over to hold him from behind with her cheek resting just above his ear.

"This is going to be the death of us, Jimmy," she said in a surprisingly calm voice.

"We're going to make it, Cat," he said, though his voice lacked the confidence of his words.

"But some part of all of us will die," she clarified. "We might go on living, but in each of us something will disappear. Our hopes, dreams, families, futures... We're going to lose something. No one is coming out of this without cause for mourning. Each and every one of us will be changed by this and we're going to emerge on the other side completely different people. But the silver lining is that was get to decide how it will change us. We will reshape ourselves. Don't let it change you for the worse, James. You are strong, brave, loyal and courageous. Hold on to those things and don't lose them."

James sighed heavily and reach up to grip her forearm. His fingers wrapped all the way around and overlapped his thumb. Looking down she marvelled at the size of her wrist in this hand. She looked almost childlike next to him.

"You're a smart cookie," he said. "I wish we'd met a long time ago. I haven't had enough time with you."

"We _will_ have more time, Jimmy," she said adamantly. "I don't plan on letting this be the end. We've come too far for this not to have a happy ending."

"Will you stay down here?" he asked, his lips brushing her arm as he spoke.

"You know I will," Catherine replied.

She needed him just as much as he needed her. After what Kaidan had told them about Sanctuary, she knew she was going to have nightmares. At the moment she was calm and seemingly numb, but as soon as she let down her guard her imagination was going to take over and concoct all manner of dreadful scenes in her mind.

He needed calming companionship. She needed to feel comforted and safe. The stress levels on the ship were skyrocketing and everyone was seeking succour with someone. Even Shepard had secluded herself with Kaidan up in the Loft.

As she predicted, Catherine suffered nightmares while they slept. Once again she dreamed of her father, but this time her mother became a husk as well, and she woke realizing for the first time that her mother might not just be dead. She could have been taken by the Reapers and transformed into one of those disgusting, mindless beast.

It was a sickening thought and she clung to James when she awoke, fighting back the panic that threatened to send her into screaming madness.

Being able to comfort her seemed to calm him. When someone else needed him at his best he always stepped up and forgot his own need to slam his body into things to vent his own frustrations.

Docking at the Citadel was an ordeal. The station was clogged and crammed with refugee ships and military vessels. The Normandy had special status, but it still took time to clear other ships out of her way.

When they finally managed to connect at their usual berth, Shepard informed them their stay would be short. She advised them to stay away from the more seedy areas and to always travel in groups.

Catherine and Morgan had made peace with each other and were touring the shops of the Persidium one last time. Neither of them knew for sure what was coming next but they both had the same sense that they were nearing the end one way or another.

Catherine spent the last of her credits on frivolous things, comforting herself by attaining more crap she didn't need. Shepard recalled them to the ship after only a few hours and they returned to find the CIC a hive of activity.

The concern of a mole being on the ship seemed to have fallen away. Whatever conversation Shepard had had with the Illusive Man on Thessia had convinced her that she was harbouring no traitors.

For the first time since setting out so long ago, Catherine had the chance to look out on the Citadel as they flew away from it for the mass relay. She stood at the port side observation window and was finally able to take in the expansive view of the largest space station in the galaxy.

Like a massive silver flower waiting to burst into full bloom, it hung in space against the back drop of the nebula, wreathed in tendrils and clouds of cosmic dust, lit by the iridescent glow of the celestial fires.

The view did not illicit the feelings Catherine expected. Instead of heartwarming pride and hope, she was filled with a sense a dread and a fear that settled in her gut and made her ache.

Before the station was out of view she turned away from the window and retreated to life support to wait out the transit. They were headed to join the fleet and from there make a final assault on Cerberus. After that nothing remained but the Reapers.


	17. Chapter 17 The Last Battle

The only people aboard the Normandy who knew the location of the Alliance fleet were Shepard, EDI and Joker. Their whereabouts of the gathered ships were kept on a strictly need to know basis. They could not risk Cerberus or the Reapers discovering where they were hiding. If they lost the fleets, they lost everything.

They jumped into the unnamed system and joined the fleet but stayed back from the bulk of the ships. As always the Normandy would be in stealth mode and stay out of the main battle so that Shepard and her squad could get themselves onto the space station the Illusive Man called home.

Everyone was on high alert and the whole ship was a buzz of activity. This would be one of the largest battles the Normandy had taken part in yet. Joker would stay on the outskirts of the battle, but their guns would be firing the whole time taking out any and all Cerberus ships they could.

Once again, Shepard took Kaidan and EDI with her. The AI had insisted that her avatar take part in the mission. No one else in Shepard's squad would be able to hack Cerberus codes and firewalls likes she could.

As for why Kaidan was going again, Catherine suspected that Shepard simply wanted him by her side. True, his was a formidable biotic, but there was no question that Liara's abilities were greater.

Catherine's had a theory which she shared with James over the comm when he called to express his displeasure at being left behind again.

"If she's thinking what I think she is," Catherine said. "Then I totally get it."

"And what is it that you think she's thinking?" James questioned sourly.

"Shepard is a woman of the heart. Look at her friendships. Look the choices she's made. She's been entirely selfless. Risking herself and her alliances to do the right thing," Catherine paused, looking at her words caerfully before letting them out. "Every time she leaves this ship it could be for the last time. Every time she passes over you and Garrus and Liara, she's being just a little bit selfish. Bringing Kaidan with her is the one and only thing she does for herself. If he dies then she will be there at his side. If she dies, he'll be with her. And if they both die, at least they'll die together."

James didn't respond for a long time. Catherine could hear noise from down in the shuttle bay so she knew the comm was still open, but James said nothing.

"James?" she said finally.

"I'm here," he said quietly. "Just... I guess I didn't realize how much they mean to each other."

"It's hard not to see Shepard as a soldier," Catherine said. "But under that armour she's still a woman and she still has a heart."

"You know once we're done here we're heading straight for Earth, eh?" James sounded fearful for the first time in all the days she'd known him.

"I know." Her voice surprised her. She actually sounded calm.

"You ready?"

"No. But we don't really have a choice, do we?"

"We've got plenty of escape pods," James said in dark humour. "You and me, we could just jump in one and float away. They'd never find us."

"What? And leave all this?" Catherine said with a smile that hurt her face as her jaw tightened as she attempted to hold back the tears.

"Keep it together, Catnip," he whispered. "Find your battle mask and put it on tight. Don't let them see your fear."

She signed off and tried to focus on her duties. Their first jump took them to system Catherine had never heard of. They did a short hop FTL jump to another relay and with a series of several more jumps and transits finally arrived in the Horsehead Nebula.

They spent another two hours in FTL flight headed for a backwater system that very few people bothered to list on star charts. Anadius, an Mla red supergiant, hung lonely and swollen in the cold reaches of the nebula. It had no planets and nothing resembling an Oort cloud or even anything approaching what might once have been a satellite. It was the perfect place to hide a space station.

The star was a wash of shifting colours, molten reds and electric blues, pulsing and swelling outward, hiding the stations in its radiation and EM pulses. It was a massive structure that must have taken years to build out here in the depths of vacant space.

EDI's best guess sized the ship at roughly one kilometer long thought it was impossible for her to take an accurate reading without revealing their position. She warned them that there could be potentially be a great many ships docked, but as they neared nothing came out to great them.

And then suddenly, just as they were coming into visual range, the station slithered to life. Fighters poured forth and swarmed toward the fleet. Every ship around them flared as they began to fire and Joker wove through them, executing agile flips and dives, gradually working them nearer to the station itself.

When he announced he could get them no closer he opened the hanger doors and the shuttle dropped towards the station, Cortez flying with as much skill as Joker flew the Normandy.

It was all hands on deck and Catherine remained in the CIC while the battle raged outside. They took several hits, glancing blows that shook and rattled the ship, but did little more than weaken their shields for a moment before they returned to full strength.

Hours went by in what felt likes minutes and suddenly Shepard was back on the ship and Catherine was lifting her weary body from her seat and staggering out of the CIC. Shepard had told them right away that the Citadel was gone, stolen by the Reapers and taken to Earth. The Illusive Man's worst betrayal yet had been revealing their plans to he Reapers.

She told them that all this time they'd had the final piece of the super weapon in the their hands and hadn't known it. But now the Reaper had done half their job for them. The synthetic monsters were gathered around Earth and now half of what the Crucible needed to destroy them was there waiting. They just had to get to it.

In a daze CAtherine found her way down to the shuttle bay and crumpled into a heap onto James' cot. She slept for only an hour before James shook her awake and told her to follow him up to the CIC. Her uniform was wrinkled and smelled rank with the cold sweat of fear. Her hair was plastered flat to one side of her head and her cheeks felt flushed and numb from being woken too soon.

Half the crew was lined up along the walls of the CIC and Shepard was waiting at the ramp to the Galaxy Map. She was wearing her dress blues and her dark hair was pulled back in a tight, professional bun.

There was a deep rumble in the ship that vibrated through Catherine's whole body. Another ship had pulled along side.

"What's going on?" She whispered to James.

"Admiral Hackett's coming aboard," he replied just as the air lock open and the Admiral came through flanked on either side by soldiers in matte black armour. They both had their side arms drawn which Catherine found strange.

The Admiral walked with purpose down the hall and through the CIC until he stood right before Shepard whose back was ramrod straight, arms tight to her sides. They saluted each other, looking grave and serious, though Catherine was sure there was a hint of smile on Hackett's face.

"Commander," he said.

"Admiral," she replied in her wonderfully velvet voice.

"Are you ready to bring to might of the galaxy to bear on the Reapers?"

Catherine had a moment of panic at the question. Were they ready? Had they done everything they possibly could? Everyone in the galaxy was on their side. Asari, salarian, turian, krogan, quarian, geth, drell, elcor, volus, hanar, batarian, vorcha, even the rachni were there ready to fight. Was it enough? Could they have done more?

"Yes sir," Shepard said with a finally that seemed to crush all the doubt in Catherine's heart.

"Then let's make sure the fleets are ready." Hackett turned as Shepard indicated for Samantha to hail the fleets.

The galaxy map flashed and flicked, green lights appearing in a multitude of systems as the fleets indicated their readiness.

"All fleets reporting in sir," Samantha said, handing him a datapad with the information. He glanced at it and handed back to her before mounting the stairs to stand looking out over the CIC at the assembled crew.

He waited for a moment to ensure that all channels were open and then he spoke.

"Never before have so many come together - from all quarters of the galaxy. But never before have we faced an enemy such as this. The Reapers will show us no mercy. We must give them no quarter. They will terrorize our populations. We must stand fast in the face of that terror. They will advance until our last city falls, but we will not fall. We will prevail. Each of us will be defined by our actions in the coming battle. Stand fast, stand strong, stand together. Hackett out."

Catherine's heart swelled with pride as the conviction in Hackett's voice washed over her. She drank it in letting it spark the adrenaline she would need soon.

Hackett stepped down from the platform and took Shepard aside. They talked to quiet tones too soft to hear and then Hackett gave her a paternal squeeze on the shoulder and left the ship.

"Historic moment, Catherine," James was bent low to whisper in her ear. "Thought you might like to see it."

"It helped James. Thanks."

Shepard came over to stand with them, unbuckling the clips at her collar as she did.

"You're up, James," she said putting her hands on her hips. "You and Kaidan meet me below before we hit the relay."

"'Bout time, Commander," James said, flexing and cracking his neck.

He gave Catherine a slap on the ass and jogged to the elevator. As she watched him go she realized that it might be the last time she saw him.

"Excuse me, Commander," she said, brusheing past Shepard and racing to get to the elevator in time.

She slipped through the door at the last second and threw herself at James, arms around his neck, cheek to cheek.

"Whoa, what's this for?" he said, his breath hot against her ear.

"Don't die down there, Jimmy," she told him hoarsely. "We've got a lot of dancing to do still."

His arms tightened around her and he leaned back, lifting her right off her feet. She thought he might have been trying to say something, but no words came out. The elevator door opened and he let her go. Taking her hand in his he lead her across the deck back to his hidey hole amid the cargo crates.

When they got there he let go and took another few steps, standing with his back to her. Looking closer she could see that his hands were shaking. She closed the spaces between them and took on of his giants paws in both of her hands.

"What is it, Jimmy?"

"I've never had to say goodbye before." His voice was husky and choked like he was speaking past a lump in his throat. "Every other time I've gone into battle it just been me and my squad. My friends were always going into the shit storm with me."

"You left me behind before, James," she said, trying to be calm for him though she wanted to break down and cry. "This is no different."

"It is and you know it," he spun to face her and she could see his the emotion wreaking havoc behind his eyes. "This is the big one. The war to end all wars. There's a really good chance I won't walk away from this and I'm going into it feeling guilty about leaving you behind."

Catherine took a step back. "Are you mad at me?"

"Yes," he shouted. He ran his hands through his hair and sat down heavily on his cot. "Fuck. I'm not angry at you, Cat. I'm just angry."

She sat down beside him and hugged his arm, leaning his head down on his shoulder.

"Why did you have to go and make me love you?" he asked.

"You don't love me, Jimmy," she said.

"Sure I do," he replied as if she had just said the stupidest thing possible. "You're my friend. I love my friends."

"You've got other friends on the Normandy. How am I different."

"Because friendship forged in battle isn't the same," he said. "Sometimes it's almost like you're friends because you save each other's asses. Then there's friendships of choice. Actively choosing to be close to someone. Soldiers like me... we don't do that very often."

"Well, in that case, I'm honoured," she said, warming inside and giving him a kiss that she let linger a little longer than was appropriate for just friends. "But I'm not sorry."

"Neither am I, Catnip," he said with a smile, his anger fading away to nothing. "You should try to sleep. You've got about an hour before we hit the relay."

"Wear your heavy armour, James, and come back or I'll tell everyone you're afraid of moths," she threatened.

"I'm not afraid of moths," he said in confusion.

"Exactly, but won't it be awful if you go down in history as the big bag soldier who was afraid of a bug?"

"Guess I'd better come back then."

"Yes, you'd better had."

Somehow Catherine did manage to get another hour of sleep. She took her place in the CIC and ran a diagnostic of their systems. Everything was at 100%. She reported in to Shepard and listened as all other Chiefs did the same. The ship could not have been more battle ready.

Joker lined them up with relay and counted down. For the benefit of the crew, EDI flashed an image up on every screen of the ship. It took Catherine a moment to realize just what she was seeing.

The AI had done a LaDAR sweep of the system and marked a green dot on a map for every ship she pinged. There were hundreds of them, maybe even thousands. And then he fleets began signing in and EDI painted the marks new colours; orange for the turians, blue for the asari, purple for the quarian and geth, and so on.

Joker took them to the relay and the ships poured through after them. Catherine wish she could look out a window and see them, the largest fleet ever assembled with the Normandy at the head of it all.

At sublight speeds it took them fifteen minutes to make their way in system and to the vicinity of Earth. The CIC was unnervingly quiet, like the calm before a storm. The hairs on Catherine's arms stood erect and shivers ran through her body, her heart beating faster and faster as they neared their home.

"Get ready everyone," Joker said over the comm and then the ship rolled.

Catherine barely had time to think as they wove their way through the battle trying to get as close to Earth as they could before dropping the shuttle. Finally, Shepard deemed them close enough and they were away.

Joker took them into a steep climb and they rejoined the battle. Explosions rocked the ship and anyone standing had to hang on for dear life as they pinballed their way through the mess and debris of active warfare.

"Cortez is down," Joker said suddenly. "Shepard's on the ground though. They all made it. She's taking down the Hades cannon on foot."

Joker continued to keep them up to speed on things planet side right up until Shepard took down the cannon. And then a new battle erupted in the bridge. The rest of the squad was going down to the surface and Joker was not pleased.

He shouted at EDI to stay where she was, but she calmly told him that Shepard needed her avatar body and that she wasn't really leaving. Catherine's heart ached for Joker. EDI was his first real love and he had no idea how to react to her suddenly going into battle.

But leave they did and the ship felt empty without them. Catherine could almost physically feel the holes they left. They become such permanent fixtures and Joker wasn't quite as daring without them.

The guns fired with slightly less accuracy without Garrus' learned touch. The engine performance decreased without Tali's skilled hands. And Liara's soothing voice wasn't there to ease the souls of the people left aboard the fight the colossal beasts tearing away at the fleets.

And then two hours later, EDI was back. Catherine turned in her chair and called to the AI as she ran past her to the bridge. She heard Joker's cry of joy and surprise before the door hissed shut.

"EDI, you're back?" Catherine said into her mic.

"Yes," she replied. "There is a destroyed on the surface guarding the Reaper beam. My avatar is of better service here manipulating the targeting of the missiles they will need to destroy it."

The beam was their only path to the Citadel. The Ward arms were shut tight and the only way to attach the Crucible to the station was to open them. And now there was a Reaper in the way. But they'd brought down two of them. They could take down another.

"Can we have an update?" someone else said over the comms.

EDI repeated what she hold just told Catherine and then continued, "Shepard has taken Kaidan and Garrus with her to assault the beam. The rest of their squad is holding the forward operation base so they have somewhere to fall back to. Anderson is leading in the troops behind her. The situation is... intense."

Joker pulled them out of the thick of the battle and brought them in closer to the planet. The noise and vibration decreased as they left the dog fights behind.

Half an hour later there was a loud whoop from the bridge and EDI came back on the comm.

"The destroyer is down," she said proudly. "They are beginning their final assault."

Time continued to tick by and then Joker's voice blared through the comms again.

"Harbinger is going after Shepard," he shouted. "Strap in everyone. We've got to slow it down."

He rolled the Normandy and dove after the Reapers heading for London. Shepard had to reach that beam. She had to get those arms open or everything would be lost.

Complaints rained down on Joker. They crew wanted to know what was going on but all radio chatter was routed through the bridge. Finally, EDI opened the channel to the whole ship and everyone held their breath, waiting to hear if Shepard had made it.

A static burst deafened them all and then a deep, accented voice could be heard through the interference.

"Fall back... ...failed... ... all dead..."

Catherine's heart sank and she realized she was crying.

"She's not dead," Joker shouted. "Shepard's alive. EDI get me Hackett. She's not dead. I've got a signal from her subdural comm. It's weak, but it's there. I can't hear anything, but she might be able to hear you, sir."

For a long time nothing happened. The battle raged in space and on the surface, but the Citadel remained closed. Joker contacted the squad and found they were all alive. Cortez had commandeered a shuttle and was on his way to the ship with them.

Battered and bruise and covered in ichor, blood and ash, Kaidan came tearing through the CIC and onto the bridge.

"Get us as close as you can, Joker," he yelled. "If she gets those arms open we're going to drop in the shuttle and get her out."

"Jeff, a Reaper has a fix on us," EDI said.

"Evasive manoeuvres!" Joker shouted and the Normandy did cartwheels for him as he tried to shake the Reaper.

Catherine was thrown out of her seat as the ship was hit with a powerful blast from the Reaper's main gun. Sparks spouted from the wall behind her and alarms shrieked throughout the CIC.

Warning lights flashed on Catherine's console and she ignored the pain in her arm where it had been crushed between her body and the seat as she tried to figure out what the problem was.

"EDI, the oxygen production plant is offline," she cried over the din. "Can you bring it back up."

"I cannot, Catherine," the AI replied.

"I'm going below." She unstrapped herself and ran as best she could to the elevator.

The ship tilted and careened and she struggled to keep her balance. In the elevator she braced herself against the wall and the propelled herself out with a great push and raced for life support.

The door opened to a cloud of smoke and Catherine pulled her shirt up over her mouth and nose and persevered into the black veil.

She managed to get the fans on and the smoke cleared and found the source of the problem. A strut had come lose and punctured one of the large canisters that housed their oxygen supply.

Until she could isolate that tank from the rest no more oxygen would be pumped into the ship and they were on borrowed time. She heaved with all her might on the valve between the damaged tank and the one next to it, but it wouldn't move.

"The arms are opening," Jokers voice echoed through the room. "She did it! They're open!"

"Hackett is bring the Crucible in," EDI added.

Catherine's arms strained as she tried desperately to turn the valve but it was locked open.

"EDI, I need help. I need James," Catherine cried, tears of frustration coursing down her face.

EDI didn't reply but a moment later the huge soldier was racing through the door. Without a word he grabbed the valve and began heaving on it. Slowly it began to turn. James' face went red and the tendons in his neck stretched taut.

"There's too much pressure," Catherine said, pushing him away from the valve. "We have to vent it. Get back below and find the main pipe. You can vent it from there and I should be able to turn it."

"Got it," James said and ran for the door.

"James," she called after him.

He turned, one hand on the door frame to steady himself.

"Good to see you," was all she said.

"Likewise," he replied and then was gone.

Catherine had all but been ignoring the radio chatter as she struggled with the ox plant. Now she listened to the desperate, confused cries overlapping each other as everyone scrambled to figure out how to make the Crucible work.

"EDI," she said, trying to make her voice heard over the rest. "What's going on?"

"Nothing is happening, Catherine," the AI said, fear lacing her normally calm voice. "We still have a weak signal on Shepard, but we don't know how to activate the weapon. And we can't get close enough to the station to land or drop the shuttle."

A loud sputtering hiss drew her attention and Catherine saw the pressure gauges drop and sprang to close off the valve. It turned easily and the alarms shut off as the oxygen began to flow through the ship once more.

"Something's happening," Joker said. "The arms are opening further. I didn't know they could do that."

"Jeff, I'm detecting a massive power build up in the Crucible," EDI said. "We should withdraw."

"I'm not leaving Shepard." His voice was pained, but Catherine felt the ship bank sharply all the same. "We're coming back."

Catherine got to the seat in the corner and strapped herself in just as the ship began to rocket away.

"There is an energy wave behind us," EDI declared, her voice was panicked. "Get us to the relay."

"I'm trying," Jeff shouted back. "Brace for transit everyone."

The whole ship shook violently. Catherine locked her jaw to stop her teeth from rattling together and taking a chunk out of her tongue. The lights flickered and a high pitch whine filled the air. Catherine clapped her hands over her ears as the sounds increased and the shaking reached the point where the harness was barely holding her in her seat.

"Shit," Jeff's voice could barely be heard over the scream of tortured metal and the shriek of the straining drive core. "No no no no no no no."

Catherine's head slammed back into the wall and a flash of green burst before her eyes. The spin spun out of control, rolling and twisting. She clung to her seat and opened her mouth to scream out her terror but no sound came. Fire burned through her body and she was vaguely aware of EDI's voice telling them all to brace for impact.

They were going down. The Normandy was going to crash. They were all about to die.


End file.
